Alchemists meet Agents
by TheFullmetalBitch
Summary: Ed makes a deal with Truth in exchange for Al's body and soul. He owes the Truth a favour and Truth can collect at any time. Three months pass since that deal was struck when Truth collects and sends Ed and Mustang to Earth to help the BAU catch an alchemist who has learnt to dimension hop and is killing people. Revised and Beta'd by PhoenixQueen
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or Criminal Minds or any of their characters.**

 **Rated: T for Ed's mouth**

* * *

Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner's day started early – _way_ too early for his liking. He woke to his phone's shrill ringtone and heard JJ's voice on the other end when he eventually answered it. More experienced with this than he wanted to admit, he forced himself out of bed with a sigh, got changed and was at work by 5:30 a.m. Bleary-eyed and with his first cup of coffee in hand, he made his way through the bullpen and into his office to drop off his go-bag and briefcase before heading into the briefing room where he was greeted by six more equally bleary-eyed people. He offered a quick good morning and apologies for the early wake up call to the rest of the team before looking to JJ to begin the briefing as he drained the last of his coffee.

"Good morning everyone," JJ began as Garcia passed a stack of files out to everyone seated around the table. "We're heading to New York. Four people have been murdered in the last three weeks and the local police have called us in to help after discovering the fourth victim." She picked up the remote and began a slideshow of the victims and the crime scenes. The team studied the files and the photos on the screen, absorbing the details of the case.

"JJ, is this right? All of the victims died from their blood being boiled?" Morgan asked, looking to their team's liaison for an answer.

JJ nodded. "According to the coroner, the effect was actually closer to that of a steam explosion, and the damage was all internal, but as near as he could determine, it was the victims' blood boiling that actually killed them. He's at a loss as to any other way that the victims could have died."

"Is blood boiling even possible, outside of the cliché where people say they get so angry their blood boils?" Morgan asked.

Reid cleared his throat and gained everyone's attention. "There are some poisons that can have the effect of heating blood up, but I've never heard of blood being boiled while inside the human body. Also, the autopsy reports say that all the toxicology tests came back negative and there are no signs of a way it could be injected if the victims were poisoned. I've never heard or read of anything that could do this." He looked up from his copy of the file to see that the rest of the team had expressions of shock and worry on their faces. Reid was the team's resident genius. It was rare for him to encounter something that he had never heard of, so if he didn't have an answer for this, then what were they up against?

"Have the local LEOs been able to find any connection between the victims?" Emily Prentiss asked.

JJ shook her head. "So far, the only connection they've been able to make is that all the victims are male and around thirty years old. There aren't any similarities in hair colour, eye colour, job, financial status, backgrounds…nothing. They're still digging, but nothing has turned up yet."

"More concerning is how the unsub is able to target and kill his victim," Reid inserted. "After all, none of these men look like they would be high-risk targets, and none of the victims had any defensive wounds or ligature marks on their bodies. The unsub is either luring his victims into a false sense of security, or blitzing them so quickly that they don't have any time to react."

"JJ, what's the time line here?" David Rossi asked. JJ flipped through her folder, before Garcia beat her to it.

"The first victim was found three weeks ago, the second was found ten days after that, the third was found a week later, and the fourth was discovered about four hours ago."

"So the unsub is shortening the time between his kills. We're going to have to work quickly on this." Rossi exhaled in a way that was almost a sigh as he stood up, the others following his lead.

Hotch _did_ sigh and rubbed his face tiredly. "Alright everyone, grab your go-bags. Wheels up in an hour."

* * *

" _I take it you're here to retrieve your brother? Just how do you plan on pulling an entire human out of here? What's your payment? Do you intend on offering your own body?"_

 _Edward smirked confidently. If there was anything that he had learned from all of this, it was what Truth was looking for. He was certain he knew what an acceptable payment would be. "Yeah, I got your payment right here." He jerked his right thumb (his flesh thumb, this time since Al had sacrificed his own soul to return Ed's arm to him in the heat of the battle) over his shoulder at the massive doors of his own Gate of Truth. By the shocked expression on Truth's face, he was confident that he was on the right path. "This thing is my portal of Truth, so I get to make the decision on how it's used. Isn't that right?"_

 _Truth began to chuckle and then the chuckle turned into a creepy laugh that would have made Ed nervous if he wasn't certain that he was making the right decision. "So it's come to that, has it?" Truth continued to laugh for a moment before his featureless face met Ed's golden gaze. "Are you sure about this? You do realize that you'll never be able to perform alchemy again without your portal?"_

" _I'm aware of that," Ed said, glancing back at the massive gateway with its branching symbols that represented his own alchemic journey. "This portal – I know it contains every secret alchemy has to offer. However, it's also led me astray. I saw the truth that lies within it and I became convinced I could solve everything with alchemy. But I couldn't possibly have been more wrong. That was just arrogance."_

" _You're willing to cast it aside? To lower yourself to a simple human?"_

" _What do you mean 'lower myself'?" Ed asked. "That's the only thing I've ever been. Just a simple human who couldn't even save an innocent little girl. Not even with alchemy." He looked Truth in his expressionless face again. "All I want is my brother back. I've – we've got friends and loved ones waiting for us." He flexed his right hand again, silently marveling at how strange it felt after five years of hearing the creak of metal and the sound of the ball bearings whenever he moved it, and feeling no phantom pain from where his nerves were fused to the port and the wires that had controlled his automail. "My alchemy is a small price to pay to know that I've got Al back."_

 _Truth grinned and laughed again. "If you're so certain that this is what you truly want, then go on! Take him home!"_

 _Ed clapped his hands together – knowing that it would be the final time, and spun around to press them against the stone of his portal, envisioning the array in his mind that would deconstruct the gate past all hope of repair. With one bright flash of blue lightning, his gate broke apart in to tiny fragments and in mere moments, it was gone. He was no longer an alchemist._

 _Ed hadn't expected to feel any remorse or grief over the loss – alchemy had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, but he was giving it up freely for Al's sake, and his brother was far more important to him than any amount of alchemic power, but as soon as the last particles of his gate disintegrated, a heavy feeling settled on his chest. He turned back to look at Truth, who stood aside, revealing the second gate that had been there the last time Ed had passed through the portal…but it wasn't Al that stood there, waiting for Ed to come back for him._

 _Ed gazed in horror at the twisted, mangled creature that lay on the empty expanse around them. Black and grotesquely twisted, it was exactly the same creature that he and Al had transmuted all those years ago, but this time it was far worse, for in addition to being emaciated and inhuman, it bore his beloved brother's face with wide, staring hazel-gold eyes and stringy blood hair that was matted with blood. Behind the creature, Al's gate opened and Edward could see the demonic little hands reaching out towards the wreck of humanity in front of the gate._

" _Truth, you bastard!" Ed shouted whirling on the featureless creature. "Where the hell is my brother!? That's NOT Alphonse!"_

 _Truth only laughed again. "Oh, but it is, little mortal. You didn't possibly think that a human body could exist here indefinitely, did you? You attempt human transmutation and your brother's body was the price of your arrogance – and this is the new vessel that you created for him."_

" _Truth! You lying bastard!" Edward screamed as the little hands seized him and yanked him towards Al's gate, the mangled corpse that was his brother being dragged along with a trail of blood following it. "You promised to give me my brother!"_

" _And I have! This is the price you have paid and the deal you have struck. Good-bye, Edward Elric!" Truth laughed again and faded into the nothingness as the hands pulled Ed through the closing doors of Al's gate._

Ed woke with a start, his breathing heavy and ragged as he blinked and took in his surroundings before he forced himself to relax as he realized that it had all been a nightmare. After all; he'd never exchanged his alchemy for his brother in the end. Truth offered to give him Alphonse back in exchange for his right arm and a favour and Ed had agreed. He could feel his alchemy inside of him as he straightened slightly in the chair he was curled up on in his brother's hospital room. His golden eyes shot over to the bed where his brother was curled up beneath the thin cotton sheets and light wool blanket. Al was peacefully asleep for a change, his golden hair again cut short in the way they had both remembered it being when Al had been ten years old.

It had been a rough three months for both of them since the Promised Day and Father's demise. Even as General Grumman – now Fuhrer Grumman – had led in the rebuilding and reconstruction efforts with the aid of Colonel Mustang and Brigadier-General Armstrong, Ed's world had narrowed from the good of Amestris to the good of his frail and weak brother. Once the initial surge of energy and adrenaline from knowing that he was back in his body had passed, Al had been confined to a bed in the hospital, needing round the clock care to counter the severe malnourishment and atrophy that his body had suffered from his time in the portal. Even worse though, in some ways, had been the psychological and emotional effects – being unable to sleep and dream for five years had left Al with horrifying nightmares as his mind began to process everything they had been through since the night when their transmutation had failed, as well as a lingering fear on Al's part that he might fall asleep one night and wake up again to find himself back in the portal, beyond any hope of returning to reality.

Rubbing his flesh hand over his face in an attempt to chase the last vestiges of the nightmare away, Ed heaved himself to his feet as quietly as he could, careful not to put all of his weight on his left foot so that it wouldn't thud onto the tile floor and wake Al from his untroubled sleep. He stretched his aching and cramped muscles and leaned over to make sure that Al was still sleeping deeply and easily before he tiptoed out of the room.

Coffee. He needed strong coffee. He turned in the direction of the coffee machine down the hall and rubbed his hand over his eyes again, yawning as he stumbled down a hallway that was as familiar to him as the corridors of Central Command, only to bump solidly into someone else.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, would ya?" he grumbled angrily as he took a couple of hasty steps backwards to maintain his balance and looked up. He groaned in annoyance as he recognized the man he'd bumped into.

"Sorry, Fullmetal. You're so short, I didn't see you there." Mustang smirked at him, knowing full well that despite Ed's growth spurt over the previous winter, the younger alchemist was still sensitive about his height and still hated when people made jokes about it.

"Watch it Colonel Bastard. You're lucky Al's asleep in there or I'd put you through the wall for the short comment," Edward said as he pushed past his commanding officer. "Anyway, what do you want? It's too early for you to be coming to see Al in an attempt to avoid your paperwork, so you must want something from me."

Mustang was surprised by the lack of a reaction he'd expected for his short joke, but not by Fullmetal's observation. He turned to follow Ed down the hall to the coffee machine and helped himself to a cup once Ed had finished fixing himself one. "You're right. There's a mission here in Central that I was hoping you could take. I know you're busy looking after Al," he added hastily as he noticed Ed open his mouth to refuse, "but we've got a missing State Alchemist. His house is here in Central but no one has been able to enter since he seems to have protected it with alchemic booby traps. I've taken a look at the arrays, but I can't make much sense of them. I was hoping that you could look over the photos we took of them and figure out how to disarm them so we can go in without getting ourselves killed. You won't even have to leave the hospital." He offered a folder to the younger alchemist.

He saw Edward frown, but he knew his subordinate well enough to recognize the signs that Edward's curiosity had been peaked by Mustang's description of the case. He breathed an internal sigh of relief when Fullmetal snatched the file out of the Colonel's hands and made his way over to a nearby table so he could sit and read it properly. He wasn't kidding when he said he couldn't figure it out. He might have acquired more knowledge of alchemy from passing through his portal of Truth after Pride and Wrath forced him to do human transmutation, but he was well aware that he still wasn't anywhere near Edward's level. He sat down opposite Ed and nursed his coffee as he watched the young prodigy study the photos of the arrays in question as well as the missing alchemist's military record.

Edward barely paid any attention when Mustang sat down at the table as he read through the file that he had been given. The alchemist was one Thomas Harding, also known as the Boiling Alchemist. His official photo and military record showed him to be about six feet tall, with lightly tanned skin, brown eyes and short-cropped brown hair. His alchemic specialty appeared to be manipulating the temperature of liquids and controlling them. Ed snorted in derision of the originality of the alchemist's title and moved on to the photos of the arrays. It didn't take long for Ed to figure out what their intended use was for and from there it only took him another few minutes to figure out an array to cancel them out.

Flipping one of the pages over to reveal a blank back, Ed held out his left hand to Mustang, who, without any further prompting; handed Ed the pen he kept in his jacket pocket. Twenty seconds later, Ed stood up and handed Mustang the folder with the array tucked inside. In all honesty, Mustang couldn't admit to any surprise over the fact that it had only taken Ed half an hour to read about Harding, figure out his array, and then create an array to cancel it. He was about to thank him when Ed spoke.

"You made the right call not going into his house. If someone had stepped on those arrays, they would have activated and killed you by boiling your blood while you were still alive. Not the most pleasant death and not one I would particularly wish one anyone, including you, you bastard." Ed said with a smirk before his expression changed to one of disgust. "You'll need to place the array I've drawn next to his array and then activate it, but be careful not to accidentally set his array off when you do. Sick bastard, intending to kill people that way. Probably a good thing that he didn't have the guts to open the portal – I have a feeling he would have been the type who would have easily agreed to help Father with his sick plans."

He stepped around Mustang, intending to get another cup of coffee when suddenly everything went white and Ed found himself face-to-face with Truth.

"Oh, fuck me, seriously? Now? You decide to collect now?" he demanded. Truth merely grinned at Ed in a way that reminded him of his nightmare and Ed hid his reflexive desire to shiver at the sight. He'd known that he would be facing Truth again one day when the creepy bastard decided to call in the favor Ed had promised him in exchange for Al's body and life, but he hadn't expected it to be this soon. A noise from behind him caught his attention and Ed spun around to see Mustang standing behind him, looking paler than usual and more surprised than Edward had ever seen him, including the moment when Ling had revealed that Bradley was a homunculous. Caught between feeling sorry for Mustang and pissed off beyond all reason at Truth's timing, Ed turned his attention back towards Truth.

"Why is Mustang here? This wasn't part of the deal, Truth. I was the only one who owed you a favor as payment. Mustang isn't part of this, so send him back." Mustang started at the sound of his name and took two quick steps forward so that he was standing next to his subordinate. Ed merely glanced at him before returning his full attention to Truth, his golden eyes burning with his ire and demanding an answer. Truth simply smiled.

"Well, in all honesty, I wasn't planning on bringing him, but this situation requires two alchemists, and with your brother recovering in the hospital, Mustang was the only other alchemist who is strong enough to help you with this task. Of course, since he wasn't included in our deal, he isn't obligated to go with you. It is his choice. He can go back, with no repercussions at all. However, if he doesn't come with you, your chance of surviving the task I have for you is only about thirty percent. One of your state alchemists managed to slip through to another dimension and has begun killing people over there. Your task is simply to stop him."

Ed scoffed. "You must have a pretty low opinion of me, Truth. It's not like this is the first rogue alchemist I've been sent after. Send Mustang hom-"

"I'll go."

Ed broke off and glanced at his commander again. "Huh?"

"I'll go. I have a suspicion this alchemist is Thomas Harding. Am I right?" he asked Truth, who merely smiled. "It's my job to bring him in, so I'll go with Fullmetal."

Edward wanted to argue – after all, he'd fought Scar to a standstill twice, as well as defeating the homunculous Pride and beating Father to death with his bare hands, but the Truth cut him off.

"Excellent. Edward, you won't have to worry about your automail over there. I'll keep it functioning. Also, you will have alchemy on the other side. I'll tell you everything else you need to know as you go through the gate." Before Edward could ask any more questions, the gate opened and black hands shot toward the two alchemists and wrapped around them before dragging them back through. The last thing either of them saw was Truth's wide, creepy grin before everything went black.

* * *

It had only been a few hours since their arrival in New York City, and the BAU team was gathered on a soccer field in Central Park, a few meters from where the most recent victim had been found. The local cops and crime scene teams were still combing the area for evidence, but had moved far enough away so that the team could meet to discuss what they'd found out. After arriving in New York, they'd split up to follow up with the coroner, the most recent victim's family, and the newest scene. To their joint disappointment, none of their interviews had borne fruit or provided any new avenues to explore.

"So what next?" Prentiss asked. "If we wait too long, we're sure to find another victim in a matter of days, considering how much this unsub's timeline has escalated. Hopefully he won't devolve into a spree."

"I think the key is going to be figuring out how the unsub is managing to kill these victims," Rossi said. "His method of killing is so unique, it must be the piece of the puzzle we need to understand what is linking these victims and how the unsub is choosing them."

"I think you're right, Dave," Hotch began, but before he could continue a surge of energy went through the air, leaving the impression of the second before a lightning strike hit the ground. A light appeared in the air a few meters away, glowing more and more brightly with every passing second until it was almost blinding. Everyone on the team reacted instantly, drawing their guns and spreading out so that everyone had a clear line of fire on the potential threat.

There was something moving within the light and a faint crackle of bright blue lightning dancing along the edges of the area that was being illuminated, but the light was so bright that the movement within the area was reduced to vague shadows and impressions. After several seconds, the light dissipated and revealed two figures lying face down on the field, unconscious.

A glance at the rest of his team and around the area showed Hotch that the local LEOs hadn't noticed anything weird – they didn't even seem to notice that the seven agents had all pulled their weapons and moved off from where they had been standing in a small group comparing notes. Facing the newcomers, he motioned for his team to move into a half-circle, both preventing them from running and shielding them from the sight of the LEOs. Moving cautiously, he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of movement from the strangers.

He was automatically picking up numerous details as he made his cautious approach. Both of the new arrivals were male, but one had black hair and the other golden blonde. The black haired man was the older and taller of the two, looking to be in his late twenties or early thirties, while the blonde seemed to be in his late teens or early twenties. The black haired one wore a dark blue jacket, sharply creased pants, and highly polished shoes that reminded Hotch of a military uniform, while white gloves with red embroidery on them covered his hands.

The blonde had his long hair in a braid, although the braid seemed to be somewhat the worse for wear at the moment, with long strands working their way loose from the band that secured it. He wore a hooded knee-length red coat with the symbol of a winged snake entwined with a cross emblazoned in black across the back, a pair of plain white silk gloves, and thick-soled leather boots on his feet.

Hotch's mind was running with wild theories about how the two strangers had arrived when the blond teen groaned and his head lolled to the side. He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath before pushing himself up onto his hands and knees as he forced his eyes open. The teen swayed for a moment, before he lifted his head and met Hotch's gaze directly. Hotch sucked in a surprised breath at the pure molten gold color of the boy's irises. He'd never seen a color like it in his life, and he'd met thousands of people in his lifetime, both in a personal and professional sense.

Any confusion or disorientation the blond was feeling disappeared immediately and he shot to his feet, falling into what was clearly a defensive stance of some type, his eyes darting around in an attempt to keep his eyes on the entire BAU team and their guns at the same time. He shifted his stance just enough to more effectively cover his companion's prone form without provoking a response from the agents. Now that he was on his feet, Hotch was able to take in even more details of his appearance. He had long bangs that fell to either side of his face, but Hotch could make out a faint scar above his right eye. Beneath his red coat, he wore a black jacket with white trim that was only closed by a clasp at his throat and otherwise hung open, a pair of black leather pants, and two thick, wide belts. Hotch could see a finely made, sturdy silver chain attached to one of his belt loops and running to his right pants pocket.

"What the actual fuck is your problem?" The teen demanded, his choice of words betraying his age. "Is this how you people greet newcomers?" He seemed ready and willing to fight if necessary, but he made no move that Hotch would interpret as aggressive.

"Keep your hands up." Morgan ordered, shifting slightly to keep the kid centered in the sights of his gun.

The boy started to raise his hands a little higher when a groan from the man on the ground caught his attention. Keeping his eyes fastened on the agents, the golden haired teen knelt down again and pressed his left hand to the other man's throat, checking his pulse before he let out a relieved sigh. Using the back of his right hand, the kid tapped his companion's cheek sharply in an effort to wake him. The black haired man groaned for a second time and the teen tapped his face again, a little harder. This elicited a more coherent response as the black haired man began to stir, and the kid shook the man's shoulder and muttered something to him under his breath that Hotch didn't catch, but didn't seem to get any audible response.

Everyone looked as perplexed as Hotch felt, but they kept their weapons trained on the two strangers. He saw the teen's eyes dart around the circle again, judging the agents' tension and readiness to fire before he raised his hands a little higher than he previously had in an effort to show he wasn't going to attack.

"Could you please put those guns down? Where are we? And who the fuck are all of you?"

Hotch studied the teen for a moment, before motioning to the rest of the team to lower their guns, but not holster them. Another gesture had the rest of the team slowly moving around to stand closer to Hotch, the kid marking their every move with his perceptive golden gaze. Once the entire team had arranged themselves with Hotch at the center as the clear leader, the teen focused his attention on Hotch. "Well?" There was a note of impatience in his tone that reminded Hotch of the sort of attitude he often got from teenagers who had little to no respect for federal agents.

"You're in Central Park, in New York City, and we're agents with the FBI. Now, you answer some questions for me. Who are you, and how did you get here?"

A puzzled look crossed the kid's face, and Hotch had the strange impression that the kid didn't recognize the places he'd named or the Bureau. He opened his mouth to answer Hotch's question, but his companion slowly starting to push himself upright caught his attention. "Mustang, get up already, you lazy bastard."

"Bugger off, Fullmetal," the other man groaned, pushing himself up to his knees as the teen shuffled back to give him room to straighten. Onyx eyes met gold, and the blonde took his companion's left arm and helped him up to his feet. The man, identified as Mustang, swayed for a moment as he regained his balance, and looked like he was about to speak before he caught sight of Hotch and his team, and more particularly on the guns they still held.

He raised his hand in Hotch's direction, his fingers poised as if he was about to snap when the blonde caught his arm and shook his head firmly, pushing down on the arm as he did so. Their eyes met and a silent message seemed to pass between them before Mustang lowered his arm to his side. The actions and silent communication puzzled Hotch, but before he could question it, the blonde turned to them and spoke again.

"I'm Edward Elric, and this is Roy Mustang. As to how we got here – well, that's a rather long and fairly complicated story." He considered the agents for a moment. "The shortest and most believable version would be that we're from a different country and we're here to collect a rogue member of our military whom we believe to be responsible for some murders that have been committed here. Our job is to bring him to face justice in our home country. So just stay the fuck out of our way, and once we find him, we'll be gone."

"Fullmetal, we still need to work on your diplomatic skills," Mustang said before Hotch or any of his team could respond. The black haired man ignored Edward's muttered retort and stepped out of the way of an elbow jabbed in his direction, before he stepped forward to meet Hotch's gaze. Now that he was upright, Hotch could see that his clothing was indeed reminiscent of a military uniform. He had several medals and ribbons pinned to the left side of his jacket, and a golden braided cord looped completely around his right shoulder. His black hair was disheveled, but Hotch couldn't be sure how much of that was from their unexpected arrival here and how much of it was his usual style.

"Forgive Fullmetal's rudeness," Mustang continued. "However, as he so eloquently put it, I do not believe that any of you would be able to understand how we came to be here. It is a rather complicated and delicate situation, and we do have a murderer to catch, so time is a little critical for us at the moment."

Rossi touched Hotch on the arm and Hotch leaned back slightly, keeping his eye on the two as he did. "Aaron, do you think they could be chasing our unsub?"

"I think it's possible," Hotch muttered back. "Either way, we can't let them go wandering around the city until we can confirm their identities and their involvement in this case." He shifted his weight again and regarded Mustang coolly. "We're federal agents and we're looking for a murderer ourselves. I believe there is a possibility that we could be chasing the same man. Would you be willing to work with us? You said that the man you're chasing is military, correct? Is there anything that you can tell us about him? Anything that could help us catch him before he kills again?"

Elric and Mustang turned to each other and, once again, seemed to be having a silent conversation. The blonde shook his head, but Mustang turned back to face Hotch. "Assuming that he is, indeed, the same man, I believe that a joint effort would be a good idea. Fullmetal and I don't know anything about this city or this country for that matter, and the man we're chasing is extremely dangerous. The two of us stand a better chance against him than you do, as we're familiar with the way he operates. Do you have somewhere much more private than an open field where we could talk? The information we have is exceptionally sensitive and shouldn't be heard by just anyone."

Elric, for his part, didn't look at all convinced that this was a good idea, but he never voiced any objection, just alternated between glaring at the ground or the agents while Mustang spoke. Hotch could tell that Morgan, at least, had some objections to this, but he knew Rossi would be able to convince him that this was the best way to ensure that these two suspicious strangers had federal eyes on them at all times, at least until their story could be verified.

"You're welcome to come back to the police department with us. We're set up there temporarily and they've given us a secure room to use. Also, I believe I need to make some introductions. I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, and these are SSAs Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, and Dr. Spencer Reid." He pointed at each member of his team as he introduced them. Elric and Mustang nodded at each of them, acknowledging their names. "Please, come with us, our cars are this way." He turned as he spoke, his team shifting enough to follow, but still keeping the foreigners in sight as the two brought up the rear.

 **A/N - So I had the best thing ever happen to me in the last couple of weeks. The lovely PhoenixQueen has offered to beta my stories for me, primarily my AMA and Spirit Animals stories, so I am replacing each chapter with the improved version. I don't know about you, but I think she has brought this chapter to a whole other level and I cannot wait to see what she can do for the rest of this story. I don't know how often I'll be posting the revised chapters and I don't know if those of you who are following or favourited me or this story will get notified for a chapter change so what I plan on doing is posting a 15th chapter that will just be me saying which chapter has been revised. I'll delete it after three days of posting to give everyone a chance to see it.**

 **Please do me a favour and let me know what you think of the improved version of this chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

For Edward and Roy, it was a silent and awkward car ride back to the precinct where the agents had set up their temporary command centre to coordinate their investigation. Both alchemists had paused slightly once they got to the agents' vehicles, immediately noticing the different style of cars in this world, and not failing to notice the towering buildings that surrounded them on all sides. Clearly, this world was far more advanced than Central City, and Edward couldn't help but wonder just what Truth had been thinking by sending them here. He hoped that none of these agents had noticed their momentary pause as they took in their surroundings, but he had the sneaking suspicion that these agents were too perceptive to have missed it.

He and Mustang got into the same car with the agent who had referred to himself as Hotchner driving and the oldest-looking agent – Rossi? – in the front passenger seat. The two agents were polite enough not to stare, but Ed had no doubt that they were running any number of theories about he and Mustang through their minds as they led the other car with the rest of the agents back to the station.

Beside him, Mustang sat straight and stiff in his seat. They were technically on neutral territory, but Ed didn't have any illusions about what his commanding officer was thinking. Both of them had been in the military for too long to be completely at ease in a strange place, especially with at least one known threat and several other potential threats in such close proximity. Edward tried to keep his eyes on the agents without making it obvious, by occasionally directing his attention out the window of the vehicle to study the passing sights of the city.

Rossi's phone dinged to alert him to a new text, and the agent pulled the device out to check on the alert. The sound caught the attention of the other three occupants, but Rossi met Hotch's eye and shook his head to indicate that it wasn't important before the team leader's attention went back to the road. About thirty seconds later, Hotch glanced in the rear-view mirror and noticed their two guests having an intense, whispered discussion in the back.

"Is there something wrong?"

Hotch's voice broke the tension and startled the two alchemists out of their heated discussion. He saw Elric leaned forward slightly, as though he was about to ask something, but Mustang grabbed his shoulder to stop him. In that moment, Hotch was certain that if looks could kill he'd be arresting the blond for his companion's murder. Mustang sighed and withdrew his hand, giving silent permission but the shake of his head indicated that he disagreed with his younger companion's decision. The blond just rolled his eyes at his elder before he turned towards Rossi and pointed at the device in his hand. "What's that?"

Rossi and Hotch exchanged a shocked look before Rossi turned to face the blond. "You don't know what this is?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone as he held up the cell phone to give the blond a better look.

Elric shook his head no, and Rossi studied him for any indications that the teen was lying, but seeing none, he decided to humour the boy and began to explain. "This is a cell phone. The vast majority of people in this country have one, including our entire team. Their primary use is to talk to people anywhere in the world, without having to rely on landlines and the need to run phone wires across countries and oceans. You can also use them to send a text, or written message to someone if you want to talk to them without having to call them. You can send the same message to a bunch of people at the same time with a text message. For example, if one of us needs the others to meet them somewhere, we can text everyone a time and place and their phones will ding like mine just did to let them know. Depending on the model of the phone, you can also look things up on the internet, like motels to stay at or restaurants to eat at. There are a number of other uses for them, but they're not as important."

There was silence from the two strangers, and after a moment the expressions on their faces changed as they absorbed and reacted to Rossi's explanation. Rossi didn't think he'd ever seen so much wonder and shock on someone's face before. Mustang had leaned forward slightly to hear Rossi better during his explanation. Elric's amazed expression quickly changed to one of disbelief.

"There is no way a device that small could be that advanced. I don't believe you. I want proof that it does what you say it does."

Rossi thought for a moment before an idea occurred to him. Unlocking his phone, he quickly selected a number from his list of contacts and waited for the person to answer, placing it on speaker phone as he did so that the teen could hear that he was actually speaking to someone. "Hey, JJ."

" _Hi Rossi. Is everything all right?"_

"Yeah, everything's alright here. I want you to do something for me though. I'll explain why when we get to the precinct. Give me a moment." Twisting in his seat to face the two in the backseat, who now both looked like they couldn't believe Rossi was actually communicating with someone else with his phone, he motioned for them to look out the back window of the SUV. They did and noticed the second SUV following behind them. "Okay, JJ. Could you stick your hand out the window and hold up three fingers please?"

The teen made a strangled noise, almost like he couldn't believe what he was seeing was actually real when JJ complied with the odd request. Rossi smiled as he thanked JJ and hung up. "Believe me now?" A slow nod answered his question as the two stunned visitors turned back to face the front.

Hotch had to hide the small hint of amusement in his voice when he spoke. "So, you two really didn't know what a cell phone was?" Two quick shakes of their heads confirmed that they hadn't. Hotch glanced at Rossi again, knowing that the older man would most likely be thinking the same thing he was. The only way that these two couldn't have had any idea what a cell phone was in this age of technology was if they were from some small, remote third world country. But in contrast, they spoke perfect English with only the slightest hint of an accent, and their clothing was of a high quality, even if it wasn't within modern fashion. Overall, these two had some interesting contradictions about them.

* * *

The discovery of the cell phone made Roy and Ed realize just how out of their element they were. Roy couldn't help but wonder if such devices would work in Amestris, and if they did how they would change the country. After all, the most advanced long-distance method of communication that they had were landlines – which could be taken down by storms or if the wires were cut or destroyed – and radios – which were limited by distance. If the military had an even more reliable form of communication than their neighbouring countries, it could give them a huge tactical advantage as well as help with the efforts to reunify the country in the wake of the Promised Day. If the citizens of Amestris could more reliably talk to friends and relatives in other places throughout the country…

Edward, on the other hand, although he was fascinated by the cell phone and its potential capabilities, was more concerned with how advanced everything here seemed to be. He'd assumed that alchemy would be common knowledge since Truth had told them that their alchemy would still work over here, but now he wasn't absolutely certain of that.

"Mustang?" he murmured quietly, not wanting to draw the attention of the too-perceptive agents.

"Yes, Fullmetal?"

"Truth made a point that our alchemy would continue to work here, but I'm not convinced that these agents know anything about it. Why else would he emphasize the fact that ours would work here? By all rights, it would have been only natural for us to assume that it would."

"Wait, you mean-?" Roy was stunned by Edward's observation, but it made a terrible kind of sense. Alchemy was not just a science in Amestris – in many ways, it was the power that the country had been built on and one of their most vital resources. They had a whole division of the military devoted to it in the form of the State Alchemists and government-sponsored research labs and libraries, after all.

"I think it's fair to assume that alchemy either doesn't exist here, or that it's used in a very different way than we do in Amestris," Ed replied grimly. "I can't think of any other reason why Truth would have made such a point of emphasizing that we would still be able to use it here."

Mustang nodded slowly, accepting Edward's logic. In the five years that he'd known Edward, the younger alchemist had proven that he was not only a prodigy where his chosen field was concerned, but he was a literal genius in other areas as well. Using logic and critical thinking skills were almost second nature to him, which made him even more valuable to the military and to Mustang as a member of his team.

"Should we tell them?" Edward asked quietly. "It might be difficult to keep our abilities secret, and if Harding is using alchemy, it would put us at a serious disadvantage."

Mustang considered that for a moment. So far, none of these agents had done anything to either of them to suggest that they were in danger. They'd reacted to Roy and Ed's sudden appearance almost exactly how Roy expected that his own team would have if the situation was reversed and the agents had appeared without warning in Amestris. Then a thought occurred to him.

"How were the victims killed?"

* * *

Not expecting either of the strangers to ask them any more questions until they reached the precinct, given their request for privacy, it took a second for Mustang's question to register with Hotch and Rossi. Hotch glanced at Rossi before looking back into the rear-view mirror and meeting the onyx eyes that looked calmly back at him.

"They were all killed by having their blood boiled," Hotch answered after a moment.

Mustang and Elric exchanged a quick, meaningful glance before Mustang looked back towards the front of the SUV again. "Do you know how he managed to do that?" His tone was curious, but both agents felt that their visitors already knew what Hotch was about to say.

"No," Hotch admitted. "The medical examiner couldn't find any signs of a fatal wound on any of the victims. There's no medical explanation as to how our unsub managed to boil their blood."

"God-fucking-damn it," Elric swore. "That fucking prick..." Mustang looked equally as pissed as Elric, but he managed to contain his feelings to an expression, instead of resorting to profanity, shooting a look at the teen that was somehow disapproving and sympathetic at the same time. "What? We'll have to explain absolutely everything to them now thanks to that bastard. He finds himself in another country and decides to start killing the locals with his alchemy?" Elric shot a look at Mustang that had both Hotch and Rossi glad that they weren't on the receiving end of, but Mustang didn't even flinch when he met the blonde's angry stare.

"I know that Fullmetal. And I'm as pissed off as you are that he's using his abilities over here in that way, but you won't be able to solve anything by getting worked up. Calm down and wait to go on a rant until we've got all the information we need." Mustang's tone was level and calm, and even though Elric stared at him for another few seconds, he didn't flinch under the weight of the golden gaze.

Finally, muttering under his breath, Elric sat back in his seat and nodded in agreement, although his eyes were still practically snapping fire and his expression showed that he was still brooding over the information that Hotch had given them. They rest of the short ride was completed in silence, and Rossi took the opportunity to send a quick text message to Garcia, asking the analyst to run a background check on their two visitors, especially checking whatever foreign records she could access from other English-speaking countries.

* * *

Once everyone had climbed out of the SUVs, Hotch led them all inside. JJ, Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss could all feel the anger rolling off the teen, but after Hotch shook his head at them, decided to remain quiet and not question him until they were somewhere more private. JJ had called ahead before they left Quantico and arranged for a private conference room with whiteboards, copies of all the case files and evidence reports, and a phone with speaker and conference capabilities to be prepared for their use. They'd worked with this precinct before, so the officers were somewhat familiar with the things that the agents required and didn't question the team or their guests as they crossed through the bullpen in the homicide department and into the conference room.

Hotch locked the conference room door and closed the shades to ensure they would have completely privacy once everyone was inside before turning to the two strangers.

"Now, before we go any further in sharing details of the case with you, we would appreciate it if you could explain everything you know, including how you came to arrive at the most recent crime scene in a flash of light. From your reaction in the car, Mr. Elric – "

"Don't call me that. It's Edward, or Ed," the blond interrupted, ignoring the cuff that Mustang bestowed on his shoulder for his rudeness.

"My apologies, Edward," Hotch agreed easily, not wanting to do anything that might cause the visitors to clam up. "As I was saying, based on your reaction in the car, you seem to know how our unsub is killing these people. And I heard you mention something about alchemy. Could you explain please?"

* * *

Edward and Roy exchanged a look before Edward sighed. Neither of them was really surprised that the agents would demand information from them first – after all, they were the strangers in this country. Since Edward was the reason that they were here, thanks to his deal with Truth, he decided that it fell to him to explain.

"Look, like we said earlier, it's a really long and complicated story. I'll – we'll tell you what we can, but keep the interruptions to a minimum, okay?" He waited until everyone nodded before continuing. "As you probably guessed, we aren't exactly from around here. And by "here" I mean this planet – or maybe dimension? I don't know exactly how to explain it, but the point is that we were transported here by the Truth. We live in a country called Amestris, and we are both members of the military."

The dark-skinned agent, Morgan, opened his mouth to ask something, but a pointed look from Edward made him close it again. "Mustang here is a Colonel, and I'm technically a Major, but you don't have to call me by my rank. I don't give two shits about it. Mustang does though." Edward smirked and ignored the glare that Mustang shot at him in favour of watching the disbelieving and sceptical expressions that the agents' faces showed.

"So…you're saying…what? That you crossed some sort of barrier between dimensions? That's science fiction, not reality," Prentiss said, her tone a mixture of scepticism and anger. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"You saw us arrive," Mustang replied. "Do people in this country ordinarily travel through portals from one place to another? Is there a country in this world called Amestris? Or one called Creta, Xing, or Drachma?"

Slowly, the agents shook their heads in response to the question, although their faces still displayed their disbelief and shock.

Edward cleared his throat and redirected their attention away from Mustang. "Anyway, the two of us are also State Alchemists. We were sent here by the Truth because a rogue alchemist is on the loose here in your city, and it's our job to track the bastard down and haul his ass back to Central to face judgment. Preferably, we would take him alive so that he can answer for his crimes over there; however his death wouldn't be a total disappointment, knowing what a sick bastard he is. His alchemic specialty is being able to transmute any liquid to its boiling point and then to be able to manipulate that liquid in any way he sees fit."

An angry scowl crossed his face as he thought about what Harding was doing. "He is using alchemy to kill people by boiling their blood, and that's why I was so angry in the car. I believe that alchemy should never be used like that. True alchemists live by the code 'alchemists be thou for the people'. Alchemy should always be used to help people, never to kill." He leaned back in his chair and glanced at Mustang while they waited patiently for the agents to pick their jaws up off the floor.

"That's not possible. What you're basically saying is that he killed someone with _magic_ ," Morgan said.

Edward shook his head. "No, he's using alchemy. It's not magic, it's science. There's a difference."

"I take it that we were right to assume that you don't use alchemy in this country?" Mustang asked, curiously.

Reid looked at Edward, his eyes still sceptical, even though his tone held a hint of curiosity. "What you've just told us is something we've never even heard of. I've only read about alchemy in fantasy novels and old textbooks from hundreds of years ago. You must realize how insane all of this sounds."

Edward exchanged a look with Mustang before he shrugged. He looked back at the agents. "Would it convince you if I gave you a small demonstration?"

The agents all shared a glance, before they slowly nodded. Edward pushed himself to his feet and rolled his shoulders. "Alright then, one demonstration coming up."

"Just be careful that your demonstration doesn't cause the building to collapse on us, Fullmetal," Roy taunted his subordinate.

Edward shot a glare at Mustang. "Oh, fucking bring it, Colonel Pyro." He pointedly turned away from his commanding officer and faced the agents. Out of habit, he started to raise his hands to clap, but paused and instead dug into the pocket of his red coat with his left hand and pulled out a piece of chalk. Years of travelling with Al had reinforced the necessity of always keeping a piece of chalk and a pencil or pen handy, since there had been times when he hadn't been able to transmute by clapping because his automail had been too damaged. His years of training with Izumi had trained him in being able to draw a circle quickly and accurately, and it only took him a few seconds to sketch out a basic array on the surface of the table.

Shoving the chalk back into his pocket, he placed his hands onto the array and concentrated. Bright blue lightning erupted from the chalked design as the circle confined the alchemic energy and began to shape the wood of the conference table into the shape Edward wanted it to have. From the centre of the array, a small wooden dagger emerged, leaving a crater in its place to show how much of the available material he had used to form it. The dagger toppled over to rest in the centre of the crater and Edward scooped it up and tossed it back and forth between his hands as he smiled at the agents.

"Wow, Fullmetal. Glad to see you _still_ don't have an artistic eye," Roy chuckled.

"Shut your mouth, bastard, or I'll show you how well this knife works," Edward snarled back. He laid the knife on the table and turned back to face the agents, who were staring at him with various degrees of shock on their face. He placed the dagger down on the surface of the table, past the crater that had been left behind by his transmutation so that the agents could examine it more carefully if they wanted to. "There's your proof."

The six agents stared at the dagger for a few more seconds before Edward suddenly found himself being interrogated by dozens of questions all at once. Holding up his left hand to stop the barrage, he pointed to Reid and indicated that he could speak.

"How is that even possible?" Reid asked with an eager light in his eye. The genius leaned forward slightly in his seat, as if by getting closer to Edward, he could somehow absorb the knowledge that much faster. Roy groaned as he realized that Edward might have just found a kindred spirit in the agent. He knew all too well that Edward loved explaining how alchemy worked to others.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut it, Mustang?" Edward snapped, before turning back to Reid. "To answer your question, alchemy is the science of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter, and the primary law of alchemy is equivalent exchange. Basically, that means that in order to create something, you have to sacrifice something of equal value. Using a transmutation circle, or a transmutation array like I just drew on the table, an alchemist can transmute one thing into another, as long as the desired transmutation follows the basic principles of alchemy."

Morgan picked up the wooden dagger and studied it for a moment. "So…you made this out of the wood that the table is made out of?"

Edward nodded. "Alchemy works on a couple of basic rules. First is equivalent exchange, which I already mentioned. You see the crater in the table where I drew the array?" The dark-skinned agent nodded in response. "That shows the amount of material that I used to create the dagger. If I'd made it bigger, or made a sword instead of a dagger, I'd have used more material and created a bigger crater. Are you with me so far?"

All six agents nodded slowly and Morgan passed the dagger over to Rossi, who studied it as Edward continued his explanation. "Excellent. Another basic principle is that you can't change the nature of material you use. I couldn't take something made from an organic material and turned it into something inorganic, and I can't change the nature of the material. The final product must be made of the basic elements that are found in the base material. Since the table was made from wood, I could only make something organic with the same raw elements that comprise the chemical makeup of wood. Still following?" Another six nods came from the agents. "Sweet. The third basic principle is that you can't use more material than what you've got available. For example, I couldn't take a glass of water and transmute it into a ten-meter tall ice sculpture. Every alchemist lives by the principal of equivalent exchange, which, as I already stated, is the most basic law of alchemy."

"So, you can do whatever you want, so long as you follow those three principles?" JJ asked, taking the dagger from Rossi.

Edward frowned. "Not exactly. At least in Amestris, there are some actual laws that alchemists must obey or else they could find themselves in serious trouble with the government. The first is that you can't use alchemy to create gold. If every alchemist who knew how went around creating gold, it would ruin the economy." He paused to take a deep breath, bracing himself for the next part.

Several of the agents exchanged glances when he paused, since he'd been so open up until this point. Ed noticed, but he couldn't help himself. The memory of what he and Al had done would always haunt him.

Mustang placed his head on Edward's flesh arm quickly, and the touch grounded him and kept him from getting lost in his memories and regrets. He refocused his attention on the agents. "The second law, and the one that is the ultimate taboo among all alchemists, is using alchemy to resurrect the dead. There is absolutely _nothing_ worth the price of a human soul, and the cost of a failed human transmutation is worse than you could possibly imagine."

The ominous words hung in the air and an awkward silence filled the room for a moment before Prentiss spoke up, changing the subject in an effort to lighten the atmosphere. "Can anyone do alchemy? Could we?"

Edward shook off the memories and looked at her. "No. Not everyone can do alchemy. Most of the people in our country can't do alchemy. You've got to be born with the talent and the thirst for knowledge. Its one thing to understand the chemistry, physics, and biology behind the science, but to be able to successfully transmute requires an inner aptitude that most people don't seem to have. I honestly don't know if any of you could do alchemy, but it would be safer for you if you don't try. If you tried to use an array and you don't have the knowledge or talent to do it, the rebound could very well kill you."

"Rebound?" Prentiss asked.

Edward nodded. "A rebound occurs when an alchemist attempts to transmute and the equations aren't equivalent. If you try to make something and don't have enough materials, or an alchemist attempts a transmutation beyond their ability and knowledge, the transmutation will rebound back on the alchemist and can have one of several different results. Either the transmutation will simply fail and nothing will happen, or the alchemist could be severely injured or killed by the energy released in the transmutation."

"So, tell us, why is your rogue alchemist here killing people, if alchemists are supposed to work for the good of the people?" Hotch asked.

"Because he's a fucking nutbag?"

"Fullmetal," Mustang sighed wearily, like he was far too used to Ed's language.

"What? It's true!" Ed's tone bordered on the edge of childish.

Mustang shook his head and turned to the agents. "I apologize for him. He may be an alchemic prodigy and genius, but he never learned any manners." Edward snarled in response, but Morgan interrupted the oncoming rant.

"How old are you exactly? You don't look old enough to be out of school, let alone in the military."

"I'll be seventeen this winter," Edward replied. "And before you ask, I joined the military nearly five years ago."

"You joined the military when you were twelve?" Morgan couldn't keep the shock out of his voice and it was clearly reflected in everyone else's face. Ed's expression hardened as he held his head up proudly.

"Yes. I'm not telling you why, before you ask. It's none of your business." Edward took the dagger back and dug out his chalk again, quickly drawing another circle around the circumference of the crater and placing the dagger back into the centre. He pressed his hands back to the new circle and activated the array and a moment later the table had been restored to its original form. He dropped back into his seat and felt Mustang reach over to pat his arm under the table.

Rossi redirected the conversation, looking at Mustang. "So, why do you think your alchemist is killing Americans?"

Mustang shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was assigned a case pertaining to him today. His name is Thomas Harding, and he's a state alchemist who goes by the name of the Boiling Alchemist."

"Edward mentioned something about state alchemists a few minutes ago. What's the difference between a state alchemist and a regular alchemist?" Hotch asked.

"State alchemists are supported and sponsored by the government. In order to become a state alchemist, you must pass an extremely gruelling exam, and even of those that pass, only one or two candidates are selected each year. In exchange for drawing military pay and a large annual research grant, state alchemists are awarded the rank of Major and are required to serve the military in times of national emergency. Many state alchemists are already members of the military and take the exam after graduating from the military academy, but there are a few, like Fullmetal, who simply take the exam and pass," Mustang explained. "Harding was already a member of the military when he took and passed the exam, and he held the rank of Major, the same as Fullmetal, but he was interested in staying on the career track and working his way up the ranks.

"He disappeared nearly a month ago, but his commanding officer never noticed that he was gone until two days ago. He attempted to locate Harding himself, but failed, so he finally submitted a missing persons report. In the last few months, our government has been struggling to rebuild and recover from an attempted coup from an outside source. Harding's CO sent him out on a mission six weeks ago, and he was supposed to report back in three weeks ago. His CO never noticed because of the massive clean up and reorganization going on over at Central Headquarters. The report landed on my desk because soldiers had gone to Harding's house and discovered alchemic traps set. I was the only state alchemist available at the time, and Harding's CO figured I'd be able to handle the traps."

Edward snickered. "Yeah, and then you turned up at Al's hospital room to beg me for help."

"I did not _beg_ you for help, shrimp," Mustang retorted. Edward growled as Mustang continued. "Anyway, I couldn't cancel Harding's alchemy without accidentally triggering the traps, so yes, I came to Fullmetal and asked him to look it over. He's an alchemic prodigy and a genius, and I knew if anyone could figure out a safe way to bypass the traps, it would be him. He was able to come up with an array to cancel Harding's without causing a worse reaction."

The agents exchanged glances, noting the proud tone of Mustang's voice, but Ed's lack of reaction suggested that he either didn't notice or care.

"So how come you're here? Did you use alchemy to track him and come over to our dimension?" Hotch asked.

Edward shook his head. "No. I owed the Truth a favour after it helped me keep a promise to the person I hurt the most, and it called in that favour and sent us here to get Harding back."

"The Truth?" Hotch wondered, wisely deciding to focus on the least personal thing that Ed had just said.

Edward shrugged. "Yeah. I guess it'd best be described as the alchemic god, although it's definitely more of an asshole than a god."

Mustang struggled to hold back laughter at Edward's description and the agents' faces. They almost looked like they were expecting Edward to be struck by lightning. "Moving back to the case, what can you tell us about Harding's crimes here?" he asked as soon as he managed to get his laughter under control.

 **A/N- So here is the second chapter, now revised! Please give it a read over and let me know how you think the lovely PhoenixQueen did with this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

"Our unsub – Thomas Harding, if you're correct about your theory that he's the one doing these killings – has been targeting men around the age of thirty," Hotch said grimly. "So far, he's killed four people, with less and less time between each kill. The first victim was found three weeks ago, the second victim ten days later, the third a week after the second, and the fourth was found early this morning. The local police were at a loss and weren't making any progress on the case, so they sent copies of their case files to us and requested our assistance."

Mustang frowned. "So you aren't with the police department?"

Rossi shook his head. "No, we're members of the FBI – the Federal Bureau of Investigation. We work for the national government and we're based out of Quantico, Virginia. Any police department in the country can request our assistance in helping them with a case, so we travel across the country. JJ –"he indicated the pretty blonde sitting beside him – "is our liaison between the media and our first point of contact for local law enforcement requesting our help."

"What makes what you do so different from what these local police departments are able to do?" Edward asked.

"Our department is called the BAU, the Behavioral Analysis Unit," Morgan explained. "We use psychology and sociology, along with an analysis of the crime scenes, victimology, and the behavior of the unsub at the crime scene to form a psychological profile of the criminal. From there, we can use the profile to help predict what the unsub is going to do and where they might strike next."

"Huh," Edward replied, impressed.

"The problem we've been encountering in this case is that we haven't been able to find any connection between the victims," Prentiss added. "In most cases, serial killers have a specific type of victim that they target – the victims will often have either some physical trait in common, like hair or eye color, or something else linking them like the same career or financial status. But in this case, the only thing we've been able to find to link the victims is that they're all male and between the ages of twenty-eight and thirty-three. Unfortunately gender and age are the least helpful in developing a profile. The only other thing linking them is the fact that they have all died from having their blood boiled."

"Damn bastard," Edward muttered, dropping his left fist onto the top of the table.

"Easy, Fullmetal," Mustang cautioned him. "Truth wouldn't have sent us here if we couldn't do anything to help. There must be something else that is missing." Edward nodded and took a deep breath to calm himself down, although his face still showed his anger and displeasure with Harding's actions.

"I'm sorry, Colonel Mustang, but if you don't mind my asking, why do you keep referring to Edward as 'Fullmetal'?" JJ asked curiously.

"It's my military title," Edward explained. "Upon receiving their certification, state alchemists also receive a code name which usually says something about what their alchemic specialty is. I specialize in working with stone and metal of all types, so I was given the title of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Harding, as I think we mentioned, specializes in manipulating boiling liquids, so he was given the name of the Boiling Alchemist, which isn't anywhere near as cool as Fullmetal, if you ask me."

"Good thing no one asked you, runt," Mustang quipped.

"Don't call me a runt, you bastard," Ed retorted, his cheeks flushing with anger.

Mustang just grinned at him and Edward scowled and aimed a punch at his commanding officer's shoulder with his right arm, which Mustang leaned out of the way of easily. After snarling slightly at Mustang for daring to dodge the blow, he looked over at the agents. "Could I look at everything you've got on the victims? I might be able to spot something you missed, from an alchemic standpoint, that is."

The agents exchanged glances, but seemed hesitant to share the files with him. It didn't take Edward long to realize why. He rolled his eyes in irritation. "Look, this isn't the first rogue alchemist I've been sent after. I might only be sixteen, but I've seen a lot of horrible shit in the last few years. If you're thinking that the files are too gruesome to show a kid, well…I haven't been a kid for a really long time. I'm legally an adult in Amestris, since I'm the sole provider for my brother and me."

"It's true," Mustang added in support. "By our laws, Fullmetal is considered an adult, and he was an emancipated minor when he was twelve. He's served the military in both an investigative and combat capacity, and he was on the front lines in helping to save the country during the coup we just recently repelled. There's very little that he hasn't seen and dealt with already; if you withhold information from him, you're only going to be crippling our ability to help you."

Morgan's phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. "Garcia. I'm going to take this," he told Hotch quietly before he headed for the conference room door.

Hotch nodded and finally slid a stack of files over towards Edward, who took them eagerly, interested in the challenge that this presented.

Reid stood up and moved down a few seats to sit next to Edward. Edward gave him a quizzical look and Reid smiled shyly. "I thought that you might need some explanations for some of the references in the files, since your world seems to be so different from ours."

"Oh, thanks." Edward said before turning his attention to the files. He took a look at the photo clipped to the front of the first file and frowned, then moved on to the next file in the stack and his frown deepened. He quickly checked the other two files and shook his head. "Holy shit," he breathed. "Mustang, come and look at this."

He placed the files side by side as Mustang leaned over for a better view. It only took him a few seconds of studying the photos before his jaw dropped in disbelief as he made the same connection that Edward had made. "Damn that bastard," Mustang swore softly.

"What? What is it?" the rest of the agents asked together, even as Hotch moved to stand behind Ed on the other side.

"No wonder no one here ever made a connection. Only we could've made a connection – or at least someone else who'd been in the military long enough to have met most of them," Ed theorized, while Mustang nodded in agreement.

"It makes sense. Harding wasn't the most popular person around East City, but you never would have realized it Ed. You've been away on missions and dealing with Father and the others for most of your military life. These four especially had a major problem with him and had filed multiple complaints against him. General Grumman even took notice and was planning on having him transferred out to the western command, but then the Promised Day arrived and we needed all hands on deck dealing with the aftermath."

Edward scowled. "So, he's what? Taking out his revenge here on these innocent people?" His tone was laden with disgust, since he was a big believer of punching the real problem whenever possible, instead of using scapegoats.

"What's going on?" Hotch interrupted. "What did you figure out?"

Mustang and Ed looked up from the photos in surprised, having forgotten that they had an audience. Mustang cleared his throat. "Excuse us. We didn't mean to get carried away, but we know why Harding targeted these four men. Your victims could be the identical twins of four of our state alchemists. We mentioned that Harding, Fullmetal, and I are also state alchemists, and as you probably gathered from what I told Fullmetal, Harding wasn't very popular. I certainly never enjoyed working with him, and as far as I know, Fullmetal never met him." He looked over at Edward. "I'm right about that, aren't I?"

Edward nodded. "I've met a few of the other state alchemists, but I've primarily worked with Armstrong or you whenever I had to work with another state alchemist. The rest of the time it was just Al and I. I remember meeting these four in passing when I used to come back to East City to report in after my missions, but we weren't friends."

Mustang turned back to Hotch and the other agents. "These men have different names and lives, but they look identical to some of our state alchemists. I'm willing to wager that Harding ran into the first victim by chance and killed him, assuming that he was the Amestrian alchemist he resembled."

"It makes sense if you look at it this way," Ed nodded. "I wouldn't have thought about it if I hadn't seen those photos, but I haven't been stuck in a parallel dimension for nearly a month without a group of federal agents to act as my guide. The first thing he probably did was freak out at the difference between Amestris and this world, and then check to make sure that his alchemy still worked. After that…well, I think it would depend on why and how he came here. If he ended up here by accident, he might have been trying to find a way home; but if he came here deliberately somehow, he probably tried to make himself home here."

Edward tapped the file of the first victim with the index finger of his left hand. "If it was purely a coincidence that he ran into the first victim, he probably thought that another of our state alchemists had figured out how to get here and was coming after him, especially knowing that they didn't get along."

"Okay, that makes sense to a point, but how do you know what he'd do once he got here?" Hotch asked, trying to quell the suspicion in his voice.

"Because, aside from the killing part, it's exactly what I would have done in his position," Edward said slowly as he rose to his feet and took a step closer to Mustang, who also rose to his feet. From the look he cast upwards at Hotch, the older agent could tell he'd hadn't been as successful as he had hoped in moderating his tone.

 _Time to stop dancing around the issue,_ Hotch decided. "How do we know that the second we find this guy, you won't join him? He is a fellow countryman of yours, as well as a fellow alchemist, after all."

* * *

"And how is my talented, amazing tech princess today?" Morgan asked as soon as Garcia picked up the phone.

"Probably better than you are, gorgeous," Garcia teased back. "Rossi sent me a message and asked me to run backgrounds on two different names – a Roy Mustang and an Edward Elric, with a focus on foreign connections. I've put the names through every program I can get my hands on and I've got nada. If we can narrow it down to a specific country, I might be able to do a more targeted search, but I'm not finding any records belonging to either of those names, legally or illegally."

"I'll get photos of the two of them to you as soon as I can – maybe you can get a hit on their pictures rather than their names," Morgan suggested.

"Sure thing, hot stuff. I've also got a deep background check running on all of the victims, but I still haven't got any hits."

"You are a gem, baby girl. I'll get back with you soon if I can come up with some more information," Morgan promised before he ended the call and stepped back into the conference room.

It seemed as if the temperature had dropped nearly ten degrees in the few short minutes he'd been gone. Hotch stood at the far side of the conference table, and the two alchemists were on their feet about five feet away, their postures rigid and tense.

"How do we know that the second we find this guy, you won't join him? He is a fellow countryman of yours, as well as a fellow alchemist, after all," Hotch was saying.

Edward's golden eyes blazed with outrage and his left hand formed a fist at his side that was trembling with rage. "Because that man is a disgusting example of our country! He uses his alchemy to kill!" The agents flinched at the anger in the teen's voice. "It's not like he was ordered to kill or blackmailed into doing it. He _chose_ to do it, for his own benefit and satisfaction! And all because he wanted to get revenge on people he thinks wronged him. But since he can't get to the people who he actually has a problem with, he's going after the next best thing. It's despicable, and it is wrong! The bastard should be caught and he should be punished, but you can't do it. He's an alchemist and a decent one from the looks of his record. There are very few other alchemists who could go up against him and hope to win, and even fewer non-alchemists. Mustang and I would _never_ join his side. _Never_."

Mustang put his hand deliberately on Edward's left shoulder as he stepped closer to the teen. His tone was more level and less angry than Edward's, but his onyx eyes were cold whereas Edward's blazed molten fire. "Fullmetal is right. Harding has taken his alchemy and used it for something horrible. Alchemy is a gift that should be used for the good of the country and its people. 'Alchemists be thou for the people'. Using alchemy like this… well, it's simply wrong."

An awkward silence filled the room and Morgan couldn't help but wonder what had happened in the short time he'd been out of the room. It had seemed as if they had reached a tentative agreement to share information and help each other, but suddenly it seemed as if the alchemists and Hotch were at each other's throats.

Mustang took a deep breath. "There's more that you need to consider. Fullmetal was correct in saying that you will definitely need our help in this. My specialty is long-range alchemy, while Harding relies more on close range alchemy. Fullmetal is an expert hand-to-hand combatant, as well as being brilliant at all ranges with alchemy. For your team to have any hope of being able to arrest him you would have to get up close and personal with him to destroy his array, and as non-alchemists, your odds of being able to successfully do that are slim to none."

Edward snorted and waved his hand at the four files still spread out on the table. "This is what alchemy can do in the hands of a skilled, if insane, alchemist. If you attempt to approach and detain Harding, all it would take would be for him to lay a hand on you for a few seconds and you would be dead. I've seen it happen before, and believe me, it isn't a nice way to die."

"You must understand that Harding is our responsibility. State alchemists are the best of the best, and Harding is no exception to that. If he wasn't a superior example of an alchemist, he never would have been able to pass the entrance exam. We knew he was dangerous in Amestris when we found those alchemic traps set at his home, and now he's here in your country where you don't understand his weapon of choice. We are not only capable of catching him, we're your best and only hope of doing so," Mustang finished, his black eyes moving from one face to another as he judged their reactions. He could feel the tension in Edward's body ebb, and, judging that he was unlikely to run across the room and punch someone, he removed his hand from his subordinate's shoulder.

The stand-off continued for another few seconds before everyone slowly relaxed, although they kept their eyes on each other, with the agents looking to Hotch for guidance. Hotch finally nodded and jerked his head to the side. "BAU team, we need to talk."

Without another word, the team moved across the room towards the door where Morgan was still standing, leaving the two alchemists standing at the far side of the table, copies of the victims' files still spread out on the tabletop. Morgan backed out of the conference room and was followed by the rest of the team, although he turned to Hotch as soon as the door was closed behind them. "What the hell was that all about, Hotch?"

Rossi quickly filled him in on the connection that the alchemists had discovered between the victims and their unsub and Morgan thought it over before nodding. If the alchemists were right about Harding's personality, it made sense that running into a double of someone he knew would cause him to lash out in surprise with the first victim. "But it doesn't explain the other victims. The first victim could have been a coincidence, but now it seems as if he's deliberately hunting for others who resemble people he knows from Amestris," Morgan concluded quietly.

"But we've seen that before," Emily pointed out. "Most serial killers target victims who remind them of someone significant in their lives."

"Right, but it's usually only a single person that they are killing over and over – a girlfriend, wife, boss, someone who slighted them," Morgan pointed out. "Serial killers are almost always acting out of an obsession with righting a wrong they feel like they've suffered by eliminating the source of that wrong. Either that, or they're seeking to fulfill a fantasy and they kill the people who fail to meet perfection in that fantasy. But this unsub is targeting people who, if Elric and Mustang are right, only had personality conflicts with some of his co-workers."

"It's the best theory we have and it does at least explain why these four were targeted," Reid replied. "We don't know how serious the conflicts were between Harding and those four back in Amestris, just that the conflicts existed. There might be some other connection, but it's the only one we have at the moment."

"Garcia wasn't able to find any information on those two based on their names," Morgan added. "If we can get photos of them to her, she can run another search to see if she can pull data based on their appearances."

"Above all," Hotch said, "we can't have them running around the city investigating on their own. For now, I'd rather keep them close and work with them, at least until we can prove the connection between them and the unsub exists. We'll use the information they can provide, but I want to make sure that we're continuing to investigate the possibility that this _isn't_ Harding. Reid, help Elric and Mustang go over the files and see what else you can get from them, and then start working on a geographic profile. JJ, go ahead and set up a tip line with Garcia and be ready to call the media in for a press conference as soon as we have anything else. Prentiss, Morgan, and Dave, I want you to set up interviews with the families and acquaintances of the first three victims and see if you can learn anything new that the local LEOs missed. I'm going to meet with the lead detective on this case and coordinate with his men, and then Dave, you and I are going to start putting a basic profile together."

Nods from the rest of the team had Hotch looking at them with approval. "Last, and most important – I don't want Elric and Mustang to leave the precinct without one of us. Until we can prove that they're not involved in this, I want at least one of us – preferably two – to have eyes on them at all times."

The team split up to work on their assignments, knowing that they would have to work together to solve this case, just like always. Having Elric and Mustang there could be useful, but there was still an issue of trust that would need to be resolved.

* * *

Edward was still seething at Agent Hotchner's insinuation that he and the Colonel would even _consider_ joining Harding. _Well fine, we don't need them, and we clearly can't trust them. I'll review these files, and then the Colonel and I can start investigating on our own._

Pulling the files closer to where he was seated, he opened the first one and began to read. It was clear that the local police hadn't been able to compile must useful information yet, and even though there were a few things that he didn't understand in the files, he understood enough to realize that there was definitely no reason for Harding to have killed these men. No reason other than the fact that they shared likenesses with four Amestrian state alchemists, that was. Lost as he was in his reading and analyzing the details, he didn't notice that someone was beside him until they sat down in the chair next to him. Startled, he looked up and saw Dr. Reid next to him.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" Reid said apologetically.

Ed frowned, not willing to show any weakness to these agents. "No, you just surprised me. What do you want?"

"Same thing as before. Was there anything in the files you want me to explain?"

Edward studied him for a moment. Reid genuinely looked like he wanted to help, so Edward shrugged and started pointing out a few things like "computer programmer" and "football" to Reid. He listened carefully to Reid's explanations and tried to absorb everything he was being told, considering his lack of context for this world and its history and technology. He saw Mustang stand and walk over to Rossi and Hotch to begin talking to them in a low voice, but he couldn't hear what they were saying.

"Was there anything more you needed help with?" Reid's question brought his attention back to the files and he shook his head.

"No, I think that was everything. Thanks for your help," Edward smiled at him and he saw Reid relax a little before he turned his attention to a large map that he had spread out on the table. The agent took different colored pens and began plotting out various points on the map, seemingly at random. Ed watched him for a few minutes, trying to deduce why Reid was choosing those particular points. "Sorry to interrupt, but what are you doing?"

"It's called geographic profiling. I look at the locations where the victims lived and worked, where they disappeared from, where their bodies were found and from there try to figure out how the unsub is getting around and if there is a pattern to his movements or traffic conditions that might help us locate new witnesses or other evidence we would have otherwise overlooked."

"Huh." Edward studied the map again. "So how are you coding this? Is it colour coded by which victim the dot relates to, or by what type of location it is?"

Reid smiled and began to explain what each dot represented and how it related to what he was attempting to do.

* * *

Morgan and Prentiss returned late in the afternoon from their first round of interviews to find the conference room in full activity. Reid and Edward were pouring over the map, which was marked with nearly a dozen dots in different colors. At the other end of the table Hotch, Rossi, and Mustang were in discussion about something with another set of files spread out in front of them. Remembering his promise to Garcia, Morgan pulled out his phone and managed to take two quick pictures of the two alchemists, which he forwarded to their analyst as JJ came in with several cups of coffee and passed her offerings around.

With that done, the two of them joined Reid and Edward who both looked up as they sat down across from them. Prentiss smiled. "How are you two getting along?"

"It's interesting. You use tools that we've never really considered using back in Amestris," Edward admitted.

Reid glanced at the teen and then looked away quickly, a nervous, almost guilty look on his face that the other three picked up on almost immediately.

"What's up, boy genius?" Morgan asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Reid looked back at Edward. "Would it be okay if I asked you some questions about where you're from? Your world sounds so interesting, and we've never met anyone like you and Colonel Mustang," he asked quickly, as if he was afraid that Edward would be offended.

Edward hesitated, considering for a moment, before he shrugged. Reid had taught him a lot about how his team worked on cases in their world, and shared information with him about things he hadn't understood in the files, so answering some questions about Amestris would be equivalent. "Okay, but there might be some questions that I won't answer."

"Fair enough," Reid said. For the next several minutes, Ed answered questions from all three agents about Amestris' history and its neighboring countries. Or rather, he answered as best he could considering that his country's history had never really excited him beyond the alchemy part, and without giving away any sensitive information that was only pertinent to the military.

JJ came over to join them, her curiosity written openly on her face, as the conversation eventually drifted away from Amestris and into the subject of alchemy. All of the agents noticed Edward visibly become more engaged and enthusiastic at this point, and it was clear that this was one of his favorite subjects to talk about.

"So, Edward, where in Amestris are you from? It sounds like a large country," JJ asked.

"It is. Al and I were both born in Resembool, a little mountain village in the southern part of the eastern region. Right now though, we pretty much live wherever the military sends us, and for the last three months that's been Central City."

"Who's Al?" Emily asked.

"My younger brother, Alphonse," Edward said with a smile on his face. "We're a year apart in age, but we've basically been travelling together ever since I joined the military, since I'm his legal guardian. We're the best team that there is."

"Does he look like you?" JJ asked. "I mean the same hair color and eye color? Because yours are really unique. I don't think I've ever met anyone with that combination or even that exact same shade."

Edward nodded. "Our hair is the same color, but his eyes have a little of our mother's green in them, so they're more hazel than mine are. But at a casual glance, most people think we really look alike."

"So where are your parents?" Morgan asked. "How did you get their permission to join the military when you were twelve?"

Edward's expression changed completely. His face grew hard, and his eyes looked haunted. For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't answer the question, but after a few seconds, he finally answered, although his whole body was tight with tension. "They're not around. Hoenheim walked out on us when I was four and didn't turn up again until six months ago, but he died three months ago from injuries that he sustained during the attempted coup. Mum died when I was nine."

"I'm so sorry, Edward," JJ sympathized. "That must have been awful, you and your brother growing up without your parents. I can't imagine being in that position."

Edward shrugged. "It was fine. We had Granny Pinako and Winry. They helped to look after us – bringing us food or having us over for dinner - for a year or so, and then we found our alchemy teacher. She took us in while we trained under her. We went back home then –" he broke off suddenly and visibly shook himself, suddenly aware of what he was saying. "Then we went back to Granny for another year, until I joined the military. After I became a state alchemist, Al and I were fine," he finished quickly.

The agents could tell that there was something else that he wasn't talking about, but they knew they'd never get him to tell, so they ignored the obvious omission, especially since Edward had already stated that he wouldn't talk about some things.

"Winry and Granny sound nice. Are they related to you?" Prentiss asked.

"No. Winry is my childhood friend. She was the closest neighbor that we had, and Granny is her grandmother. She raised Winry when her parents died in the war. They're automail technicians, the best in the country," he added proudly.

"Automail?" Reid asked in confusion.

"You don't have automail here?" Edward was surprised by this. This world seemed so advanced; he had figured that they'd have amazing automail here. When the agents all shook their heads, he frowned. "So you don't have prosthesis for people who lose limbs in accidents or serving the military?"

"Of course we have prosthesis," Reid said. "So in your country you call it automail?"

Edward nodded. "Winry builds and designs the automail with Granny's help, and Granny performs the surgeries and handles the after-surgical care and rehabilitation with Winry's help, but recently Winry's been apprenticed at another automail shop in Rush Valley. She'll probably go back to Resembool once she finishes her apprenticeship. It's usually made out of steel or some form of metal alloy, depending on where it needs to be attached and what it's needed for."

"Interesting," Reid said. Before he could ask any more questions, Hotch stood up from the far end of the table and cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention.

"It's getting late, and we've made some progress today, but I don't think we can do anything more until morning, so why don't we head to the hotel and get some sleep?" The rest of the agents murmured their agreement and started gathering up their go-bags, ready to get a good night's sleep, especially considering the early morning they had had. Mustang and Edward realized that they had a problem, however.

"Is there anywhere here in the precinct where we could sleep?" Mustang asked before the team left.

"Why? The hotel we're staying at should have some rooms available," Morgan asked, a little confused.

Mustang smiled wryly. "I'm sure it does, however, we have no money to pay for it. I doubt your hotel would take Amestrian currency."

JJ and Prentiss had a quick whispered conversation before JJ turned back to the alchemists. "You can use my room. I'll bunk with Emily."

"Are you sure?" Mustang asked. "We're used to sleeping on couches. We'd be fine here."

"Of course. You'll need your rest too, and trust me, the couches in cop stations aren't comfortable," JJ assured them.

The two alchemists exchanged glances and shrugged. Mustang, in turn, shot his most charming smile at the two female agents. "Thank you both. We appreciate it." With that, the team and the alchemists left the precinct and hopped into the cars and headed for the hotel and a decent night's sleep.

 **A/N - So I've had a couple of people comment that they really loved the unbeta'd version of this story so I was wondering, do you guys want me to re-publish the old version of this story so you can read it if you wanted? So you'd have two versions of this story? What I'd do is remove the revised chapters on this story and replace them with the old ones then publish the revised story as a separate story. Let me know what you think to that. Also, let me know what you think to this revised chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

The trip to the hotel where the agents were staying was uneventful and quiet. Everyone was tired and looking forward to getting a good night's sleep. Edward was especially tired, as he hadn't been sleeping well since he'd gotten Al's body back. It wasn't surprising, considering that his current sleeping arrangement consisted of an uncomfortable hospital chair, but he was also still dealing with his persistent nightmares, like the one he'd had the night before.

Ed was no stranger to the nightmares – he'd been having them since that night – but they'd been getting more frequent and more brutal now that he wasn't constantly on the move. What-ifs and what-could-have-beens had been haunting him once he'd gotten a solid twelve hours of sleep after the Promised Day. He'd made the mistake of mentioning them to Al, during an attempt to comfort his brother after Al had had a nightmare of his own. Al had immediately latched onto that admission and begun interrogating Ed about them. _How long had he been having them? How often did they occur in a given week? Had he told anyone about them? Maybe he should talk to the Colonel about them._

Ed had shot him down as soon as Al suggested _that_. No way in hell was Ed ever going to show the Colonel _any_ sort of weakness. He didn't trust the bastard not to find some way to use his nightmares against him. Instead he'd assured his brother that he was fine. After all, he'd always managed to wake himself up before they got too bad, and he would talk to Winry or Granny about them if they did get to the point where he couldn't deal with them. He knew that Al knew that he was lying through his teeth, but Al knew that his brother's stubbornness would only get in the way, so he'd dropped the subject.

It didn't really matter though, since Edward was pretty sure that the Colonel knew something was up. He wouldn't put it past his brother to tell Mustang sometime when he'd been visiting and Edward had stepped out of the room for another coffee or to walk out the aches and cramps in his muscles from spending so much time curled up in his chair. So far, the Colonel hadn't said anything outside of what Ed would have expected of him. _Are you okay, Fullmetal? Maybe you should get more sleep instead of reading all night? After all, you're still growing._ There had been a few other short jokes thrown in and Edward had snarled back a few choice words, but he knew something was different.

From past precedent, Edward knew that the Colonel only ever asked if he was okay when it was so unbelievably obvious that he wasn't. Like the time he'd come back from a mission with four broken ribs and a deep gash on his left arm that had gotten infected. Or the time when he'd gotten a nasty concussion on top of some minor internal bleeding which had caused him to collapse unconscious in the Colonel's office. So he'd figured that either he really looked like shit (again, thanks to the uncomfortable as hell chair in Al's hospital room) or Al had said something on the sly.

At the moment, however, despite his exhaustion, he was fighting the urge to sleep because there was no way in this dimension or any other that he was going to fall asleep in front of strangers and risk the possibility of a nightmare. His struggle to stay awake must have been more noticeable than he realized, however, since Agent Jareau turned around after a few minutes and mentioned that it wouldn't be long until they got to the hotel.

"Thank you, Agent Jareau," he replied with a half-smile before turning his gaze out the window and taking in the incredible sights of this world, with its huge buildings and bright lights every few feet. There was so much light in fact that he couldn't even begin to imagine how anyone who lived in this city managed to get any sleep at all. And all the signs advertised products or people in a way that just seemed strange. What was the point of having a man wearing nothing but his underwear displayed fifty feet high on the side of a building? Or a picture of six different colored vertical bars with a white apple attached to some sort of scaffolding? With his attention on all the signs and different types of vehicles sharing the road with them, he was oblivious to the slightly concerned look Mustang was giving him.

Although Edward might only have suspicions and no proof, Al had in fact told the Colonel about his brother's sleeping problems. Mustang had been concerned about what Al had told him, but he had told Al point blank that there wasn't anything he could do about it until Edward came to him. When Al had protested, saying that surely Mustang could order Ed to tell him about his nightmares, Mustang had pointed out that he couldn't help Ed until Ed wanted help. Roy wasn't unfamiliar with the gripping terror and weakness that nightmares could cause – he'd experienced that sensation himself plenty of times since Ishval, and again recently when he thought about the Promised Day and his own experience with human transmutation.

" _But why can't you do anything?" Al asked. "Brother won't let me help – he's too convinced that he has to protect me, even though I know all about them, since I've lived through everything that he has."_

" _Of course he is, Alphonse," Roy replied. "He's your big brother – it's his job to protect you because that's what big brothers are for. You're right that I could order him to tell me – nightmares like you're talking about could render him unfit for active duty, but what would forcing him to tell me really accomplish? He's not on active duty right now while he's taking care of you, so it's not a matter of critical importance that could affect the outcome of one of his missions. All it would do is cause more bad blood between the two of us and destroy the fragile friendship we've started to build since the Promised Day. Even worse, if I confront him about it, he'll know that you're the one who told me, and that could cause an issue between the two of you."_

 _Al sighed. "I guess you're right Colonel. I'm just tired of watching Brother suffer and seeing his stubbornness prevent him from asking for help."_

 _Roy smiled sympathetically. "Sometimes being the younger brother means knowing when to be the silent support and sometimes it means knowing when to put your foot down and overrule your brother for his own health and safety. Right now Fullmetal's health and safety aren't in any danger, so…"_

Al had conceded the point after that, since they both knew that Ed's legendary stubbornness only lasted so long before he eventually gave in and asked for help. Mustang just hoped that, in the wake of the Promised Day and dealing with Pride that Ed would realize that being stubborn for the sake of preserving his own pride wasn't always worth it. In this case, it would just be a matter of waiting Ed out.

Both alchemists were pulled abruptly from their thoughts when the car stopped. Exiting the vehicle, they lingered beside it while they waited for the second car full of agents to park and discharge its occupants, which it did a moment later. While they were waiting for the agents to get their go-bags out of the rear compartments of the cars, Edward suddenly stiffened.

He took a step away from the others and started scanning the area around them, searching for whatever made his internal warning bells go off. His behavior was not lost on Mustang or the agents. A nervous tension fell over the whole group before Mustang broke the silence, approaching Edward cautiously and reaching out to place his hand on the teen's left shoulder. "Fullmetal? What's wrong?"

"Someone's watching us," he hissed back, his golden eyes still scanning the parking lot and paying particular attention to the areas that were shrouded in shadow and away from the casual view of someone who happened to be walking through the lot. Then, suddenly -

"GET DOWN!" he yelled, instantaneously clapping his hands together and slamming them down onto the ground. Walls rose around the small group, startling the agents, who instinctively pulled their weapons out. Mustang, far more used to the sight of Edward's protective barriers forming in front of his face readied himself to snap, but remained far more relaxed than the BAU team.

Edward's reaction came not a moment too soon, as something crashed into the wall just ahead of them, causing deep, wide cracks to appear directly in front of where Ed was still crouched. Edward clapped again, turning his arm into his signature blade before signaling for absolute quiet. Everyone practically held their breaths while Ed cocked his head, straining to hear anything out of the ordinary. He didn't want to revert the wall until he was certain that there was no one waiting beyond it, ready to attack the second it was down and the group was vulnerable. His left hand was splayed wide on the ground to try to pick up any vibrations around them, but since there was a lot of traffic on the nearby street, neither trick proved to be helpful.

Sighing he stood up and clapped his hands twice, once to change his arm back to normal and the second time to revert the wall back into the ground and repair the parking lot. The agents raised their guns and quickly separated to sweep the area for their attacker. JJ and Reid stayed behind with the two alchemists, and neither failed to notice the way that both Ed and Mustang were still on high alert, their eyes tracking the movements of the rest of the BAU team. Once they'd cleared the immediate area and regrouped at the vehicles, Morgan turned to Edward.

"What the hell just happened, and how in the hell did you change your arm into a sword?" he demanded, suspicion and ire clouding his voice.

Edward bristled at the tone of Morgan's voice. He did not like being questioned about decisions that he made when on a battlefield or a potential battlefield. "I just saved all our asses, that's what just happened, and my arm is none of your damn business."

Mustang and Rossi both noticed the tension in Edward's stance, but it was Rossi who interjected first, in an effort to diffuse the situation. "I think what Morgan was trying to ask was how you knew we were in danger."

Edward didn't completely relax, but some of the tension did ebb out of his body. He let out a tired sigh as he replied, "I knew that someone was watching us because I could feel it. I've had issues in the past back home with a group stalking me, so I've kind of developed a sixth sense to being watched from a distance. And I knew we were about to be attacked because I could feel the alchemic energy being released. When we passed through the Gate to get here, I made sure I got some knowledge out of it along the way. I guess that was some of what I picked up."

The agents didn't seem to know how to respond to that statement, and Edward was pleased to notice that even Mustang seemed a little stunned. His commanding officer was staring at him as if he didn't know what to think about what Edward had just admitted to.

"Wait, you picked up _more_ knowledge from the Gate? I didn't get anything."

Edward grinned at the semi-jealous tone in Mustang's voice. "Yeah, well maybe Truth likes me more," he taunted, before his expression sobered and his eyes turned haunted again. "I've been through the Gate more than anyone, and I've learned how to absorb as much knowledge during each pass as I can. Truth owes me _that_ much at least."

Mustang couldn't argue with that reasoning. Not counting this most recent time to get to this dimension, he'd only been through once, and that time he'd been forced to. He'd gained knowledge - like the ability to transmute by clapping that Edward, Alphonse, and their teacher all shared - but he was still far behind the Elrics.

"That still doesn't explain how you knew it was an alchemist that was watching us. How'd you know it simply wasn't someone who was just curious?" Hotch asked.

Edward fidgeted a little in response. "I could sense his alchemy, or rather, his alchemic energy. And yes, before you ask, Mustang, something was different. I think Harding must have gained knowledge from the Gate too. The alchemy he used certainly wasn't his normal alchemy."

Mustang frowned at the sight of Edward fidgeting as well as the slightly hesitant tone in his voice when he spoke. He wasn't used to Edward being anything less than confident when it came to alchemy, and made a note to question his subordinate more closely about it later, when they didn't have an audience and Edward wouldn't have to censor his explanations for the uninitiated.

"What do you mean? He has different alchemy now?" Hotch continued questioning the teen, with a little bit of disbelief and skepticism in his voice.

Edward shrugged. "Yes and no. Most alchemists have one element or type of alchemy that they excel at - a specialty of sorts. For state alchemists, that's even truer than it is for regular alchemists. That specialty is usually indicated by our alchemic titles, which I think I mentioned earlier. I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist because I specialize in working with stone, metal, and ores. Mustang is the Flame Alchemist - his specialty is fire-based alchemy, or anything to do with fire and combustion, including working with gasses and other chemical vapors. Another alchemist that we know and work with from time to time is Major Armstrong - he's known as the Strong Arm Alchemist, since he uses his alchemy to enhance his already impressive physical strength. Harding was the Boiling Alchemist - he specializes in raising the temperature of any liquid and being able to manipulate it."

He paused to take a breath. "There's nothing to stop any alchemist from learning any array they want, but once most alchemists find their niche, they're usually not inclined to explore any further, which is ironic since most alchemists consider themselves seekers of truth and questors for knowledge. In this case, based on what happened to the wall I transmuted - with the cracks and such, that is - that leads me to believe that he's doing something different because he was too far away from us to directly utilize his strongest skill. Somehow, he has more arrays at his disposal and since this world doesn't seem to practice alchemy and there was no recorded evidence of him ever actively practicing other forms of alchemy in the military file Mustang gave me about him, I have to conclude that he picked up something new when he passed through the Gate."

He pointed towards an alleyway across the street and slightly to their left which was dark due to a broken streetlight at its mouth. "If we head over there, I could tell you what array he used."

Hotch nodded and indicated that Ed should lead the way. The traffic had slowed enough that they were able to cross the street in safety, although Morgan and Prentiss did hold up their badges to oncoming traffic until the whole group was safely across. Edward and Mustang were already scouting the alley and it only took them a few seconds to locate the array.

Edward scoffed and quickly scuffed the toe of his boot through the circular array to break it. "Cowardly bastard. He used his array and then ran as soon as he realized his attack didn't hit. He didn't even stay long enough to destroy the array or hide the evidence."

Mustang shook his head. "It's a simple earth array. He probably used it to form a large rock to throw at us." They all looked across the street and saw that from where they were standing they had a perfect view of where they had been standing next to the cars. With the darkness provided by the broken light, it would have been easy to go unnoticed if it hadn't been for Edward.

"And what about your arm, kid? Where'd the sword come from?" Morgan asked again.

Edward hesitated in his response again, before he sighed with genuine reluctance, and Mustang knew why. Even though automail was well-known in Amestris and becoming more and more common each year, there were still some stigmas and prejudice against those who had it. Given that this world didn't seem to have automail at all, the potential for an unfavorable reaction from the agents was high.

But to Edward's credit, once he made up his mind to do something, he didn't hesitate. He pulled his glove off of his right hand and held it up for Morgan to see. The shiny metal gleamed even in the low light of the alley and he saw all of the agents' stunned looks as they took in the sight.

"Is that automail?" Reid asked, making the connection to their earlier conversation a lot faster than Mustang would have expected.

Edward nodded. "I lost my right arm and about three quarters of my left leg in an alchemic accident when I was eleven. The transmutation I was trying to perform rebounded on me and I would have died had Alphonse not been able to get me to Granny and Winry before I bled to death." Mustang noted that the teen didn't go into the details of the accident or how Al was able to get his older brother to help. "After my wounds had been given a few weeks to heal, they gave me automail so that I would be able to walk and use both of my hands again. I couldn't have become a state alchemist otherwise."

"How does it move so well?" Reid asked, scientific curiosity coming to the fore. "We have prosthesis here, but it's nowhere near that advanced. It's almost like a real limb!"

Edward looked down at his hand and flexed the fingers into a fist. "It runs on the electrical impulses in my nerves. There's a port installed in my torso where my shoulder joint would normally be. The port is attached to every nerve in my arm that controls movement, and then the arm itself is plugged into the port. Same for my leg, only the port there is installed in my thigh." He reached down with his left arm and rapped on the metal of his left leg where it met with the remaining flesh. "Essentially, my automail is my real arm and leg, except that they're made of metal and I can't feel anything that I touch with it."

"It's amazing," Reid said, admiringly. "I can't imagine how much better life would be for people here if we had this sort of technology."

Edward shrugged and quickly pulled his glove back on, hiding the metal hand from view once again. "There are probably as many downsides to automail as there are benefits, so it's not as fantastic as it seems. I'm just lucky that I have the best mechanic in Amestris, so I don't have to worry as much about the downsides."

"What sorts of downsides?" Rossi asked, curiously, but kindly.

"I already mentioned that I can't feel anything I touch with it, and if you were to touch my automail, I wouldn't know it unless I saw your hand on my arm. I have to rely on my sight, the rest of my body's muscle memory, and long practice to be able to use it with the fluidity that I do. There are some automailers who don't ever regain the level of control I have, because they aren't willing or able to put in the work during the recovery and therapy period after the surgery."

He rubbed his shoulder in an absentminded gesture. "I also have to be very careful in extreme temperatures. Because the metal is literally attached to my skin, it's much easier for me to get frostbite or burns if I'm not careful. If you have automail, you also are required to have a reliable, trustworthy mechanic, since it requires periodic maintenance to continue functioning in peak condition. Depending on where you get it and who originally installed it, that could mean travelling quite far. Mechanics tend to be very protective of their work and don't like other mechanics to work on their creations. After all, every mechanic has their own style, and if you went to a mechanic who wasn't familiar with their work, they could damage the limb severely. It's also extremely expensive to purchase and maintain – there aren't many people in Amestris who can afford it."

"Are those the only downsides?" Reid wondered. "I mean, they seem bad in their own way, but a lot of that applies to other sorts of medical treatments and advancements too."

"The worst part is probably the surgery and installation itself," Edward admitted. "It's excruciatingly painful and you have to be fully awake and aware for it. Painkillers can't be used, because the port is being attached to each of your nerves, and if painkillers were used, it's possible that something could be attached incorrectly which can cause lingering pain or cause the limb to malfunction. If you break your limb or grow out of it, your mechanic will have to make and attach a new one. Every time the limb is removed and then reattached, the nerves have to reconnect, and that hurts just as much as the initial surgery."

Ed's explanation was given in the same tone he would have used if he was explaining how to make a sandwich. He concentrated his attention on adjusting his glove just so. Mustang noticed that his subordinate made a point of not making eye contact with the six agents, so he missed the expressions of horror and sympathy that crossed their faces as they realized that Edward had gone through extremely painful surgery on two limbs when he was only eleven.

"Another danger is the wrench to your head whenever Miss Rockbell sees her precious automail in pieces after you've broken it yet again, eh Fullmetal?" he added, deciding to try to lighten the mood and distract the agents away from pitying the teen. Edward despised being pitied or viewed as weak above everything else, even short jokes. He reached out and ruffled the golden hair, which earned him a venomous glare as Edward smacked his hand away.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you reckon, old man. And besides, I haven't ruined this set in nearly three months!"

Mustang snorted. "That's a record considering I used to have to send you back to Resembool nearly twice a year for Miss Rockbell to replace or repair your broken limbs."

"It wasn't my fault that you sent me after people who decided they'd rather fight than surrender, even when they were clearly outmatched. Or when Scar was running around trying to pick off state alchemists and always went after my automail first," Edward snarled in response.

"Maybe if you didn't pick those fights, Fullmetal."

"Hey, I barely started any of those fights!"

Morgan cleared his throat. "Okay, well that explains your arm and leg, but it doesn't explain how you made a sword appear out of nowhere."

Edward looked back up at the agents. "My forearm has a pretty heavy steel plate on it to protect the delicate wiring and cables that lead to my hand and fingers, but it can be removed for maintenance. All I did was use alchemy to reshape that plate and extend it out into the rough shape of a sword, and then change it back once we were safe."

"Why a sword?" Prentiss asked curiously.

Edward shrugged. "Why not? My arm literally becomes my weapon if I'm forced into hand-to-hand combat, and the shape I transmute it into also allows it to serve as a makeshift shield if I need one. No one can disarm me short of literally destroying my automail, and that's not the easiest thing to do. Plus, my alchemy teacher was an expert in bladed combat and she taught us everything there was to know about making and fighting with blades."

He yawned hugely and blinked twice. He suddenly looked absolutely exhausted, with his eyelids actually starting to droop and swore under his breath before glancing up at Mustang. "Mustang, do me a favor. Do some alchemy."

Mustang raised his eyebrow at the request. "And why am I doing that?"

"Because I'm fucking tired. Way more tired than I should be after using an array as simple as forming a wall and changing my arm." He snapped back. "I want to know if it's just me or if something about our alchemy is different here."

Shrugging, Mustang took a few steps away from the group and raised his arm. It would be easier just to placate Edward than to argue with him. He snapped his fingers sharply and a stream of fire flew from his fingers before harmlessly dispersing further up. He let his hand drop back to his side and noted that he was feeling significantly more tired than he had been a few seconds ago. He turned back to Edward, who must have been able to read the signs on his face somehow and looked triumphant.

"I knew it. It must be because this dimension doesn't use alchemy here. We're relying more on our internal energy than we would if we were back home. We'll have to be careful and make sure we get lots of food and rest to refuel our supply."

"What does that mean?" Prentiss asked. "You won't be able to use your alchemy to help us find Harding now?"

Edward looked at the agents. "No, we can still use alchemy here, obviously, since Mustang and I both just did and Harding's been using his to kill. We'll just have to be careful about how much we use and how often. There is alchemic energy in this world, but it's only about a quarter of what we'd expect to find in Amestris, if I had to guess."

At the six confused looks he received, he sighed. "Alchemists internalize alchemic energy. That's what allows us to activate our arrays when we want to instead of as soon as an array is drawn. However, we have to draw that energy in from somewhere else. Back home, no one can really agree on what actually powers alchemy. Some think it's the energy released by the movement of the tectonic plates, some believe it's the planet's life force, and some think there's a special layer between the planet's crust and mantle that can only be accessed by those who are born with the ability to use alchemy. Whatever the source, it's obviously weaker here. That's likely due to the fact that no one here uses alchemy, but it could also be the reason that alchemy isn't prevalent. If no one here can sense the energy to begin with, there wouldn't be an entire group of people who learn to use that energy."

"So why does using that energy make you so tired?" JJ asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"That's not unique to this world," Ed assured her. "If we used huge amounts of alchemic energy in a short period of time in Amestris we'd still get tired. Here though, the simplest arrays use twice as much energy as they should. We _are_ still drawing in alchemic energy from the outside, but we're doing so much more slowly than we would at home. As long as we're careful and get plenty of food and rest after using alchemy, we should still be able to help. Besides, I've got a few more new tricks up my sleeve that I wanna test out on Harding." His words were punctuated by another yawn. "But right now, the most pressing issue is sleep. I don't know about you lot, but I'm going to fall over soon."

Concern for the golden haired teen spurred the group back into action and they quickly crossed the street back to their vehicles, where they recovered their luggage before heading into the hotel. Ten minutes later, JJ was handing Mustang and Edward each a room key and the group was making their way to their rooms. All of them were on the same hallway, in the same bank of rooms, so they bid each other goodnight once they reached their assigned rooms and retreated for the rest of the night.

Once inside, with the door securely locked behind them, Edward and Roy looked around at their home away from home. There were two single beds, which they both silently thanked Truth for, a small bathroom, a long dresser, and a table with two chairs in one corner. Edward made a beeline for the nearer of the two beds. He kicked off his boots and collapsed face down into the pillow immediately.

Mustang made a face at the thought of all the grime the teen was leaving on the sheets. "Why don't you go for a shower first, Fullmetal?"

Edward opened one eye and glared ineffectively at his commanding officer. "Why? I can go in the morning."

"Going for a shower might make you sleep more comfortably, since you won't be covered in dirt and your own sweat and odors," Mustang pointed out.

Edward frowned and pushed himself upright wearily. He clapped and placed one hand on his shirt and jackets and the other on his black pants. Blue alchemic light flashed and disappeared, leaving Edward looking a lot cleaner. He shed his red coat and black jacket, dropping them onto the floor with his boots, but leaving his black tank top and pants on as he squirmed under the covers. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow for a second time.

Mustang just shook his head. Just fifteen minutes ago, he had been saying they should only use their alchemy when they had no other choice. He moved to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower. Once he emerged, feeling a lot better, he realized he had nothing clean to change into. Grimacing slightly and trying not to think about what he was doing, he put his boxers, pants, and white singlet back on. He rinsed his dress shirt, socks, and jacket in the shower and hung them over the curtain rod to dry overnight.

Edward was still fast asleep when he came out of the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the further bed, drying his hair as he studied the teen. He'd never seen the kid truly asleep, only unconscious the few times he'd checked on him before work in the past when the blond alchemist had been hospitalized. Now though…it was like the weight that Fullmetal carried on his shoulders just vanished, leaving him looking younger and more peaceful than Mustang had ever seen him. Although, the peaceful image was somewhat ruined by the lines of exhaustion etched into Edward's face.

Mustang draped his towel over one of the chairs and got into bed himself, switching off the light as he did. The last thing he thought before he fell asleep was that he hoped Edward didn't suffer from any nightmares tonight. The kid really needed the sleep.

 **A/N - So here's the fourth revised chapter! Let me know what you guys think to this one!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

Mustang slept like the dead. Fullmetal could have destroyed the building they were in and he was pretty sure he wouldn't have stirred. However, just because he slept like the dead, that didn't mean that he woke feeling completely rested. _Apparently,_ he decided as he woke to the sound of someone banging on their door, _dimensional travel takes a lot out of you._

Groaning, he rolled over and pulled the covers off of himself. He stood up and padded across the floor to the door just so he could make the infernal banging stop. He stole a quick glance at Edward and saw that the younger alchemist was still dead to the world. Clearly, he was invulnerable to loud noises when he slept. Mustang envied him that ability. Rubbing his face with one hand and covering a yawn, he opened the door to reveal Dr. Reid.

"Good morning, Colonel Mustang. Hotch sent me down to see if you and Major Elric were ready to accompany us down to the station so that we can continue working on the lead you two provided us yesterday." He sounded way too cheery for the morning, in Mustang's opinion and actually reminded him more than a little of Alphonse – especially now that Al was back in his real, human body.

"Alright, just let me get ready and wake Fullmetal up. You're welcome to come in and wait, if you'd like. Also, you can just call me Mustang or Roy. If we're going to be working together, there's no need to be so formal." Leaving the door open for the agent to enter if he chose, he entered the bathroom and gathered up the rest of his now-dry uniform. Putting on his dress shirt, he opted to leave the rest of his uniform in the room, since he wasn't in Central and there was no one in this dimension that he needed to impress. Grabbing his shoes and socks, he moved towards Edward's bed to wake him. However, as he looked at the teen's peaceful expression, he paused and reconsidered his options.

He knew from his recent conversation with Alphonse that Edward hadn't been getting much sleep in the past three months and was basically subsiding on coffee and bad hospital food, save for the rare occasions when Alphonse was able to convince him to leave the hospital and sleep over at the Hughes' house for a few nights. As long as Edward remained off active duty (granted to him by Mustang and now-Fuhrer Grumman) so that he could tend to his brother), Mustang didn't really have any direct control over the teen's health since it didn't affect his ability to perform his duties.

But now, given the opportunity to let his youngest subordinate catch up on his much needed sleep, he found he couldn't simply pass that opportunity up. After all, he had a reputation for taking care of his subordinates.

Looking back at Reid, who was standing awkwardly next to the bathroom door, he asked "Is it necessary for Fullmetal to come in with us? If possible, I'd prefer to let him sleep for a while longer. From what his brother has told me, Fullmetal's been getting little to no sleep for the last couple of months." He quirked a slight smile. "Also, he's less likely to blow things up if he wakes up on his own terms."

Reid blanched a little at that. He couldn't tell if the Colonel was kidding or not. "Uh, I'm not sure. I'd have to go ask Hotch or Rossi. I'll be back in a few minutes." He turned and hurried out the door, leaving Mustang to finish getting ready. Mustang had just finished lacing up his final boot when Reid came back.

"Hotch said it was fine, but he wants me and JJ to stay here with him. That way when he wakes up, we can take him to the station with us."

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "Why two of you? Surely one would be sufficient?" He asked the question, although he suspected that the answer the agent would give wouldn't be the entire reasoning behind his superior's decision.

"It's because our cars only seat five. There are eight of us with the two of you included."

Mustang grunted in response. He checked on Edward one last time before letting Reid lead him to where the others were waiting in the hotel lobby. "So how come Agent Hotchner picked you and Agent Jareau to stay here?"

Reid's expression turned thoughtful. "I'm not one hundred percent certain, but probably because we seemed to get along with Major Elric the best yesterday. I mean," his tone changed slightly and became more nervous, as if he was afraid of offending Mustang, "I know we aren't friends or anything like that, but I'm really interested in learning more about where you come from. The two of you seem really interesting, and you probably don't trust us very much, but –"

Mustang cut him off, not having any tolerance for nervous babble. "Dr. Reid, you seem very trustworthy, and based on what I saw, Fullmetal does seem very responsive to you, Agent Jareau and Agent Prentiss. If he didn't he wouldn't have talked with you as long or as openly as he did yesterday. And trust me when I say that Fullmetal getting along with anyone is extremely rare. I've known him since he was eleven, and we've only really started getting along in the last six months. Now, if you want to maintain Fullmetal's responsiveness, let me give you some advice."

Reid nodded. "Okay."

"Don't ask him about the night he lost his limbs. Don't ask him about his parents, and especially about his father. Don't call him short. Try to avoid offering him milk. Don't ask him about his reasons for joining the military. And don't ask him why he hasn't been sleeping recently. Okay?" Reid nodded again and they stopped as they reached the others waiting in the lobby. Morgan was just ending a call on his phone. Giving Reid and Mustang a brief, cautious smile, he turned back to Hotch.

"She's catching the next flight out. She should land just after lunch, hopefully."

Seeing Mustang's questioning look, Hotch elaborated. "Our technical analyst, Penelope Garcia, will be joining us later today. I need her on site to run through the city's security cameras and assist the camera surveillance team with finding your missing alchemist."

Although Mustang wasn't one hundred percent certain what a technical analyst was, he knew he'd find out soon enough, so he didn't both asking for more details. He waited while Agent Hotchner finished issuing instructions to his team.

"Reid, JJ, I want the two of you to stay here and wait for Major Elric to wake up. Bring him straight to the police station unless I call to say otherwise." The agents nodded and turned back in the direction of the hotel rooms to wait for Edward as Hotch motioned for the rest of them to follow him to the car. As they pulled out of the hotel parking lot, Mustang glanced back at the building and hoped that Edward didn't blow the building up when he awoke to find Agent Jareau and Dr. Reid in his room.

* * *

Edward grumbled as he slowly woke. The bed didn't feel familiar and the walls weren't the right colour to be his room at the Hughes' apartment. He didn't really think too much about it since he was used to waking up in unfamiliar places until he heard two faintly familiar voices coming from one corner of the room. Rolling over onto his right side, he stretched hugely underneath the covers.

A warm hand landed on his left shoulder. "Edward?" The voice was warm and gentle, but the sound and touch were so unexpected that he reacted without thinking about it. Startled, and not fully awake, five full seconds passed before he found himself standing beside the bed, his automail blade pointed straight at Agent Jareau's throat.

Reid was on his feet, his hand hovering over his gun, eyes darting back and forth between his fellow agent and Edward. JJ, however, simply stood with her hands raised in a placating and submissive gesture.

It took another three seconds for Edward to remember everything that had happened the previous day. His golden eyes widened in shock as he realized that he'd almost hurt someone. Quickly leaping back so that the bed was between him and the agents, he clapped his hands and transmuted his automail back to normal before he hung his head and fixed his eyes on the floor, shame filling his eyes.

"Agent Jareau, I am so, so sorry. I swear, I didn't mean it." He apologized profusely, clutching his automail like he expected it to turn back into a blade again. He couldn't believe he'd been so careless. In all his military service, the only person he'd ever actually killed was Father, and in all honesty, he didn't consider Father to be human. But this time he'd been a hairsbreadth away from hurting a person.

Reid and JJ had both relaxed the moment Edward had transmuted his arm back to normal. They could both see that Edward hadn't meant it – it was clearly on display in his eyes and body language as soon as he realized who they were. But both of them were also concerned for the teen as well. What exactly had happened in his life to this point for that to be his automatic reaction to waking up somewhere familiar? JJ took a cautious step forward, not wanting to spook the teen further. "It's okay, Edward. It was my fault. I should've realized that you were going to be a bit disoriented when you woke up." JJ smiled sincerely at him when he looked up, the shame in his eyes turning to shock at her reaction.

"No, it wasn't your fault. It's just, the last few times I've woken up somewhere unfamiliar with no one I know near me, it didn't end well. You couldn't have known that, but that means I should have realized a lot sooner who you were. I'm really sorry."

He almost jumped out of his skin when JJ rounded the bed and placed both of her hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Edward, it's not your fault. I'm not hurt. I promise that I don't blame you." Edward studied her for a few seconds before offering a tentative smile when he didn't see any sign of a lie in her voice or face. "Now, how about you go and get ready so that we can meet the others at the station?" Edward nodded and she removed her hands so that he could head into the bathroom.

JJ walked back over to Reid and took a seat at the table, looking a little shaken, as they heard the shower running. Reid sat down in the other chair, resuming the placed they'd been in before Ed woke up. They looked at each other and both of them let out a breath they felt like they'd been holding for hours.

"That was intense," JJ stated.

Reid raised a brow at her. "Intense? Yeah, that's putting it mildly. Poor kid. He must've been through something awful for that to be his reaction to someone waking him. You handled that really well. I don't know what I would've done."

"You wouldn't have been in that situation. You did tell me not to wake him like that," JJ reminded him.

They heard the water stop running and heard a heavy _thunk_ as Edward climbed out of the shower. Two minutes later, Edward came out wearing his boxers, with his hair down and a towel slung over his shoulders. He took a seat on his bed and stretched his automail leg out in front of him before he began thoroughly drying it off, making sure to get the edge of the towel into all the grooves and seams between the plates.

The two agents stared at the fully displayed automail. Nearly three quarters of Edward's left leg – from the middle of his thigh down to his foot - was gone, replaced by shiny steel that glistened with moisture from the shower. Scars circled his entire thigh at the point where flesh met metal. Worse by far, however, was the sight of the teen's right arm. His entire arm had been replaced, and a huge metal plate also covered half of his chest, having been bolted into place. More scars littered his torso, including a large, ugly one on his left side just a few inches to the left of his stomach and abdomen. The sight of such obvious hardship displayed on such a young person horrified both of them and at first they didn't hear Edward's voice as he addressed them.

Edward was frowning slightly when they finally blinked and tore their gazes away from the sight of his scars. "Did you say something, Edward?" JJ managed.

"Yeah, I asked if either of you have a comb I could borrow?"

JJ nodded and disappeared to grab it, and in the meantime Edward quickly pulled his pants, shirt, and jackets back on, ignoring Reid's stare. By the time JJ returned with a brush, he was pulling his white gloves back on over his hands. He took the brush with thanks and began combing out his long hair. With practiced ease, he braided the golden tresses and tied off the end of the braid. With another thank you, he handed her back her comb, shoved his feet into his boots, and stood, ready to leave. "Oh yeah, do either of you have anything I could use to draw on myself with? Something that would last for a while?"

A little surprised by the odd question, and still shaken by the events of the morning and the sight of Edward's automail on full display, both agents shook their heads.

"We could ask the hotel receptionist for a permanent marker. If we can't get one there, the police station should definitely have one," Reid suggested.

"Okay. Can we stop by the receptionist's desk before we leave then?" Ed asked.

"Sure, shouldn't be a problem. I'll call Hotch to let him know we're on our way while you ask," JJ agreed, leading both of them out the door and towards the lobby. Once there, Reid led Edward to the receptionist's desk and JJ got on her cell to call Hotch. She hung up just as Edward and Reid reached her, Edward holding a black marker in his left hand.

"So I didn't ask, but what did you want that for anyway?" Reid asked as they headed out to the car.

Edward smiled in satisfaction. "I figured out an array while I was in the shower. It should double the amount of alchemic energy we regain while we're here. That way, we'd last longer in a fight and be able to help you more." JJ and Reid looked at him in shock as he climbed into the backseat.

"You figured out an array that could do something like that while you were in the shower?" Reid asked, a little disbelievingly while he and JJ slid into the front seat of the SUV.

Edward laughed. "Yup. Alchemic prodigy and genius, remember?" He pulled his door closed. "Are we heading to the station to meet the others now?"

"Actually, Hotch asked us to pick up the last member of our team," JJ said. "Her name is Garcia, and her flight should be landing shortly. Do you want to come with us, or would you prefer to go to the police station, Edward? I can drop you and Reid off at the station before I go to pick her up."

"What do you mean by 'flight'? She flew here? How?" Edward was legitimately confused. As far as he knew, humans couldn't fly, not even with alchemy. JJ took his question to mean that he was interested in coming with them and headed for the airport.

"You don't have airplanes where you come from?" Reid asked.

"What are airplanes?"

With a smile, Reid launched into a full explanation about what planes were and how they worked. It lasted for most of the short trip to LaGuardia International Airport. Edward was following and asking intelligent questions whenever Reid paused for breath, but the expression on his face indicated that he didn't believe a word Reid was saying.

"There's no way that that's real," Edward declared, crossing his arms over his chest as Reid finished his lecture. "It would be too heavy to fly."

JJ smiled as she pulled into the short-term parking lot and slid into the first empty spot that she saw. "Take a look out the window, Edward. There's one coming in for a landing behind us. It'll come right overhead any second."

Edward popped the door open and scrambled out to take a look, with the two agents moving at a more sedate pace. Turning to look behind the SUV, he gaped to see the huge jet descending from the sky. It zoomed overhead, and despite the fact that it was still hundreds of feet in the air, he could hear the roar of the engines. He watched in awe as it passed over their head, descending more each moment until it disappeared behind the building in front of them. "They're real!"

JJ and Reid shared a smile before JJ caught Edward's attention. "Come on. We need to go and wait for Garcia's flight to land, and we can probably grab some lunch too. Her flight should be landing in a few minutes."

Together the three of them entered the building, Ed's eyes looking every which way as he caught sight of all the signs pointing travelers to the terminals where they would board their planes. To the two agents, the teenager looked like a kid seeing a theme park for the first time or experiencing his first Christmas. JJ checked the arrivals board and discovered that Garcia's plane was due to land in another fifteen minutes.

Reid went over to one of the vendors and came back with three cups of coffee and three burritos, which Edward devoured with nearly as much enjoyment as he was showing in looking around the airport. Once the last scrap of food was gone, the alchemist continued to look around, before he met JJ's gaze. "Is there any way that we can get a closer look at one of the planes?"

JJ shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry, Edward. Airports have very heavy security checks these days, and no one is allowed past the security checkpoint unless you have a confirmed boarding pass or a warrant for a passenger's detainment. Even I couldn't talk anyone into letting us past the checkpoints."

Disappointment crossed the teen's face, but it was replaced with a smile after another moment. "That's okay, Agent Jareau. I understand. It's similar to trying to get into Central Command these days without being a member of the military or having a military escort."

"Exactly."

Reid checked his watch. "Garcia should be landing any minute now."

"What's she like?" Edward asked. JJ and Reid exchanged a look before JJ turned back to Edward.

"Well, she's one of a kind, but I think you two will get along," the agent replied, trying to come up with the best way to sum up Garcia.

Edward nodded and entertained himself by watching the passengers coming and going. Several met family members with hugs and kisses, while others moved briskly through the lobby pulling or carrying suitcases. As an experienced traveler himself, Edward was less curious by the way they acted as he was by watching where they went and how they found their way to where they were going. The security checkpoint held his attention for quite some time.

He watched as people formed lines and emptied their smaller bags and purses into plastic tubs which they placed into a large machine, while they themselves removed their shoes, belts, and jewelry and stepped through a different large machine under the watchful eye of uniformed officers. He indicated the machines to Reid. "What is that?"

"The machine the bags are going through is a scanner – special cameras are able to see what's inside the bags and look for dangerous objects like guns, knives, or explosives. The machine the people are standing in is a body scanner – it scans the body and looks for concealed weapons that people might have underneath their clothing."

"Huh." Edward thought that over. "It's probably a good idea that we can't go past. I don't know how I'd be able to get through, considering half of me is made of metal."

"They make allowances for people with implants or prosthesis," Reid admitted. "But you'd definitely set off the alarm even without your ability to alter the shape of your arm."

Just then, a colorful blonde woman came down the hallway from the direction that other arriving passengers had been travelling. She spotted the three of them almost immediately and greeted JJ and Reid warmly and cheerfully before offering her right hand to him.

"Hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, but you can just call me Garcia."

"Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Feel free to call me Ed or Edward," he responded automatically as he shook her hand.

She gasped when he took her hand and that was when he realized that he'd used his automail arm out of habit. Snatching his hand back, he shoved it in his coat pocket quicker than they could blink. Garcia's natural inquisitiveness was about to ask for an explanation when JJ cut her off.

"I'm sure Edward will be more than willing to answer questions when we're somewhere a bit more private, but we'd better get going or Hotch will wonder where we are."

"Sure thing JJ. Anyway, it's really nice to meet you Ed. Morgan told me about you and your boss Colonel Mustang. He told me that you can use something called alchemy?"

Edward hummed an acknowledgment. "Yeah, but Mustang's not my boss. That would imply that I actually listen to him. And yes, we use alchemy, but I'm not going to explain it here. Too many people around. What do you do in the FBI? I'm guessing that you're not a field agent since you didn't arrive here with the rest of the team."

Garcia shot him a wide smile. "Nice observation skills. I'm a technical analyst. Basically I do background checks on suspects, figure out details about our victims' lives and whereabouts, and try to find hidden connections between the victims. I also provide witty humor when the team calls me. I don't accompany them on cases unless I'm needed on site, like this time when Hotch needs me to help use the city's security cameras. They're on a closed circuit, so I can't access them from my office back in Quantico."

"That sounds really cool. You're like a combination of our investigative branch and Master Sergeant Fuery all rolled into one," Edward said, impressed. Garcia would have blushed at the compliment if she knew what he was talking about. Edward continued to ask more questions about her job and how it differed from that of the other members of the team, or for more details about the things she said that he didn't understand.

By the time they got in the car, Ed's head was spinning with the new information he'd gathered. Garcia turned to Ed as soon as JJ pulled out onto the road.

"Now it's my turn to ask questions. First up, what's with your hand? It felt really cold and stiff and un-hand-like."

Finding her blunt approach a little refreshing, he pulled off his glove to reveal his automail and wiggled his fingers. "I lost my entire right arm and three-quarters of my left leg due to a stupid alchemic mistake I made when I was eleven. This is automail. It's a metal prosthetic that's attached to my nerves, which means that it works like a normal limb, except that I can't feel anything."

"Wow, that's unbelievable! Did you use alchemy to make it?"

Edward shook his head as he slid his glove back on with practiced ease. "No, my mechanic back home made them. She and her grandma run an automail shop. Granny Pinako does the surgeries with Winry's help and Winry designs and builds the automail limbs with Granny's help. They're the best in the country. Automail surgery and attachment is too delicate and painful to be done with alchemy. There are just too many risks to do it that way."

Garcia nodded in understanding. "Okay, next question. What is alchemy?"

Ed flashed a grin. "Simplest explanation? Alchemy is the art of equivalent exchange. Alchemists are able to take one thing and transmute it into something of equivalent value. For example, I can transmute water into ice, but not into wood. I can only use the materials I have, but I'm able to break them down to their base elements. As long as the resulting product is made from the same base element and has something of the same nature as the original object, I can change it. But I'm also limited by the quantity of what I have available. I couldn't change a glass of water into a six meter ice sculpture. Does that make sense?"

Garcia thought about it for a second. "Yeah, I think so. Could you show me?"

Edward nodded. "I would, but the transmutic light can be blinding and I don't want to get into an accident. Can I show you once we get back to the station?"

"Sure! Can all alchemists change anything they want?"

Edward shrugged. "It depends. Most have a specialty. In theory, and if they're willing to put in the effort to learn and practice the various arrays that are needed, then yes. I'm considered a genius and a prodigy when it comes to alchemy, so I can do a lot more than Mustang can without having to think about it or research it. But on the other hand, alchemists who have specialties are usually really good with their chosen field."

Garcia nodded. "So you don't have a particular specialty then, but what about Colonel Mustang?"

"Mustang's specialty is fire alchemy. He's the only person in Amestris who can use fire alchemy, but since he's spent most of his life studying one ability, he isn't that good at others. There are other alchemists who specialize in air alchemy or plant alchemy, or creating crystals, or fixing houses and household items. There are a lot of different ways to use alchemy, but most alchemists are like Mustang. My brother and I are special. We practiced alchemy without anyone to teach us from the time we could read until our mother passed away and we found our Teacher. She taught us how to fight and helped refine and broaden our alchemic knowledge. Al's always beaten me in a fight, but I'm better at alchemy, so it's a fair trade." Edward laughed a little, ignoring the brief pang of worry that went through him at the reminder that he wasn't with his brother and wondering if Al was going out of his mind yet.

"Wow, so alchemists are like the X-Men? That is so awesome!" Garcia grinned at Edward, but his blank look in response must've told her that he had no clue what she was talking about. "You don't know who the X-Men are, do you?"

Edward shook his head, causing her to grin like a Cheshire cat, which, if asked, Edward would swear up and down that it definitely did _not_ make him nervous. Nope, not one single bit.

"Well, my young grasshopper. Let me enrich you in one of the most important parts of our culture. Comic book characters."

 **A/N- So here's chapter 5 revised! You'll notice a fair amount of change, especially the airport scene. I'm Australian and I've never been to America so I have no idea what your airports are like, other than them being really tight with security, so when I wrote that scene, I was basing them off of our airports. The lovely PhoenixQueen fixed the scene up so it better reflected American airports. Make sure you guys check out Chap 6 after you've read this one because I'm updating it right now. Also, let me know what you think to this chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

It seemed to take forever for their car to finally stop at the police station, but once they actually pulled into the parking lot Edward couldn't help but feel relieved. He liked Garcia; she was really nice and he could tell that she didn't have a mean bone in her body and would never intentionally hurt anyone. However, there was only so much one could take when discussing pop culture, _especially_ if that person had no clue what a superhero or a comic book even was.

Reid and JJ had been giving him sympathetic looks all throughout the drive. They had both been through the same lecture, albeit theirs had been much shorter since they had at least known the more popular characters in passing. If he moved just a little more quickly towards the building than was polite, neither of the agents were going to call him out on it.

His head swimming with information that he wasn't one hundred percent certain would even be remotely relevant to catching Harding, Edward headed into the building just behind the three agents, following them back to the conference room that had been set aside for the BAU's use. He scanned the room as they entered, noticing that Morgan and Prentiss were missing, but Mustang was sitting at one end of the table reading over the case files again and making some notes on some paper that he seemed to have acquired from somewhere.

As the BAU members exchanged greetings and information about what had been accomplished already that day, Edward made his way over to sit down next to Mustang and immediately helped himself to a few sheets of the older alchemist's paper. Ignoring his commander's half-hearted protest, Edward pulled out the marker he had borrowed from the hotel receptionist and quickly drew out an array on one of the blank sheets, passing it over once he had finished drawing it out.

Mustang accepted and studied the sheet intently for a moment, noting that it wasn't an array that he was familiar with. Even with the knowledge that he had acquired from the time he had been forced through his Gate, he couldn't make heads or tails of the purpose of the array and he glanced up to meet Edward's gaze. "Okay, I give up. What's this supposed to do?"

Edward snorted disdainfully, which caused the agents to all look over at the two alchemists. "What does it look like? Come on Mustang. You're supposed to be intelligent."

"Is it an array to make you taller?"

Edward barely held back the urge to punch his superior in the face at the short joke. "Bastard. It's an array I created this morning. Basically, it'll act like an alchemic energy sponge." At Mustang's blank look, he realized he needed to elaborate a little more. "It's designed to be drawn somewhere on our skin, so that when we activate it, it'll absorb the alchemic energy of this dimension at a faster rate than we would on our own. It'll then store that energy in us so that we can use it like normal. Basically, when we finally catch up to Harding and he decides he's not going back to Amestris without a fight, we can use this array to replenish our alchemic energy more quickly, and thus we'll not tire as quickly as he will."

Mustang's jaw was not the only one to almost hit the floor once Edward finished his explanation. The agents were staring at Edward with a variety of shocked and surprised looks on their faces.

"That's what you thought up this morning in the shower?" Reid asked, being the first one to recover.

Edward shrugged nonchalantly. "Uh, yeah. Alchemic prodigy here, remember? This isn't the first array I've created. Anyway, that's not the only thing I've thought up since we got here. I think I've figured out a way to find Harding."

Hotch immediately latched onto that statement. "How?"

If he wasn't so used to the reactions he sometimes garnered once people realized just how skilled he was when it came to alchemy, Edward might have squirmed under the intensity of the stares he was receiving from the agents at the moment. "Well, it's just a theory at the moment. I'd need to test it out on a smaller scale, but I think I can send out waves of alchemic energy that would find his location. I'm not sure how I would receive the information back though, which is partially why I want to do a small scale test first."

"And the other part?" Rossi asked.

Edward shrugged. "If the small scale test rebounds, the backlash probably wouldn't kill me."

"Kill you?" the agents chorused as one.

Garcia's eyes were wide with shock. "Wait, is alchemy dangerous? You could actually die doing it?" Even though she'd just met the teenager, she already looked at him as part of her strange little family. There was something surprisingly endearing about him, despite the tough front he put up.

"Well, yeah, if you attempt a transmutation that's unbalanced or beyond your skill," Edward's tone was nonchalant. "Alchemists generally research and check over their work for months or years before attempting to use a brand-new array, unless they've gone completely insane." There was a faint tightness around his mouth as he spoke, but other than that tiny facial tick, there was nothing that indicated that he had any concerns about testing this array.

"But you said you just came up with this array this morning," JJ reminded him. "That's not months or years of researching and double-checking your work."

"I'm not an ordinary alchemist," Edward replied. "I'm one of, if not the, single-best alchemists in the whole of Amestris. The only alchemists that I've ever met who _might_ be able to match me would be my younger brother Al, our Teacher, and our bastard of a father."

"From how you described it, Fullmetal, it sounds like it could work. But you are right. A small test would be best, on the slim chance that your theory is wrong. But before that happens, what exactly are you exchanging for this?" Mustang's onyx eyes locked onto his subordinate's golden ones.

"It would require huge amounts of energy," Edward admitted. "For the small scale test, I'd probably end up almost as exhausted as I was yesterday. For the large scale one, I'd probably feel like I've been fighting all seven of the homunculi plus their damn Father at the same time. Worst case scenario, I end up sleeping for a couple of days straight."

"Fullmetal," Mustang began, but Edward cut him off before he could say anything more.

"Before you argue with me, Mustang, remember that I know my limits better than anyone. This array won't kill me, assuming there's no rebound."

"I don't know if it's worth you doing something this risky, Major Elric," Hotch interjected. "We have other tools at our disposal to find Harding, and if there's a chance that this could endanger you, I wouldn't ask –"

"I already told you not to call me Major Elric," Ed interrupted him. "I don't care about my title the way Mustang does, and I promise you I know what I am doing." He met Hotch's gaze confidently. "I don't take risks when it comes to alchemy unless I'm relatively certain of the outcome and the benefits outweigh the possible consequences. I learned my lesson a long time ago about attempting the impossible." He absently clutched his automail arm with his left hand.

No one missed the gesture, but they also didn't miss the warning look from Mustang and so no one commented on it.

"It could work," Mustang admitted, drawing the attention of the agents. "When it comes to alchemy, no one is more ingenious than Fullmetal, and he's accomplished things at the age of sixteen that most alchemists couldn't even begin to comprehend, let alone achieve at twice that age."

Edward snorted a bit at his commander's words. "Of course I have, Mustang. There's a reason that you recruited me when you did – even five years ago you recognized my talent."

Mustang rolled his eyes and glared at his subordinate. "Fine, Fullmetal. We'll do the small scale test, but once we've established that your array works as intended, we _are_ going to have a further discussion about the large scale one."

"Whatever. Hey, by the way, where are Agents Morgan and Prentiss?" Edward asked, glancing around the room as he realized that the other two agents weren't back yet.

"They're chasing a lead. There was a report that came in after we arrived this morning that Harding was spotted down in the East Village area of the city, so they went to check it out and speak to the witness who called the report in."

"Oh, okay. Did they find anything?"

Hotch shook his head regretfully. "No, they called not long before you showed up. They didn't find any signs of Harding, and the witness couldn't offer any more details than she reported when she called in. They're going to grab some dinner for everyone on their way back in."

"Oh thank Truth! I'm starving!" Edward exclaimed.

"You're always hungry," Mustang smirked. "Half of the food budget in Central Command goes to keeping you fed."

"You try carrying around two automail limbs and then going a whole day without any food," Edward shot back. Mustang raised his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk never left his face. Garcia took the opportunity to approach the second alchemist and introduce herself before Ed knocked him out.

"Hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, technical analyst for the FBI." She offered her hand, which Roy grasped immediately.

"Colonel Roy Mustang of the Amestrian military. Pleased to meet you."

"So are you like Ed? You can do alchemy too?"

Mustang nodded. "I'm the Flame Alchemist, because my alchemic specialty is fire. Ed's specialty is making the biggest mess he can -"

"HEY!"

"What is it that you do for the FBI, Miss Garcia?" Mustang asked, ignoring Edward's outburst and subsequent mutterings. Garcia laughed before repeating what she had told Edward earlier about how she helped out the BAU. Mustang asked several questions to clarify her description, and just as her explanation was coming to a conclusion, Morgan and Prentiss walked into the room carrying several flat, square boxes from which enticing aromas rose.

Edward's eyes immediately focused on the food and his mouth began to water. The two agents placed the boxes on the table and flipped them open to reveal four steaming pizzas. Despite the fact that Edward had never seen anything like it, a brief look at the way the agents used their hands to eat the bready, cheesy, food was enough for him to dive in as eagerly as the others.

Once everyone had food in front of them, they began to eat while discussing Morgan's and Prentiss' most recent lead and Edward's newest arrays. Edward, for the most part, didn't talk if he could help it. He hadn't been kidding when he said he was starving. Truth had snatched him the day before when he'd barely been awake and with only a single cup of coffee in him, and in all the confusion of their dimension hopping, eating had been the last thing on his mind.

Once he was finally sated (one giant pizza later), he took another blank piece of paper and went to work on his tracking array. Although he had the array clearly in his mind, he was still going to draw it out. This would help him find any potential faults in the array beforehand, and, in the event of a rebound, it would lessen any injuries he might sustain. He was focused on his work when Mustang suddenly snatched the paper away from him.

"Oi! Give that back, bastard!" Edward snarled as he lunged for the paper.

"Pay attention and I will," Mustang replied pointedly, one eyebrow arched with amusement as he nodded in Hotch's direction. Confused, Ed turned to face Hotch and realized the agent had been trying to ask him a question.

"Sorry, I get a little too focused sometimes when I'm trying to figure something out. What were you asking?"

Hotch waved his apology off. He knew how it felt to be completely focused on work to the point of blocking everything else out, after all. "I wanted to ask you to explain your tracking idea in more detail."

Edward nodded. "As I said yesterday, alchemy works on the principle of equivalent exchange. In order to activate this array, I'll be exchanging huge amounts of my own energy to create the alchemic waves that I'll be using to search for Harding. Now, I'm not one hundred percent certain what this array will be searching for. It could be focusing on Amestrians, people with large alchemic energy, people who have passed through the Gate, or it could be solely tracking whomever I focus on at the time I activate it."

"You mentioned the possibility that this array could rebound on you though, Edward," JJ ventured. "Isn't it dangerous to activate it without knowing exactly what the array will be looking for?"

"With other arrays, I would say yes, the chance of a rebound would need me to be more specific about what I was hoping to create, since too much could go wrong if I didn't. I've never used this type of array before, so there are a few uncertainties, which is precisely why I am doing a small scale run with it first. But since all I am doing this time is exchanging my alchemic energy, the risk isn't as great. Exhaustion would be the only thing I am really risking. But until I do the test run, I just won't know what I'm looking for. The only thing I know for certain is that it _will_ somehow find him."

"Do you need anything in order to make it work, since Harding is obviously not here at the moment?" Hotch asked.

Edward shook his head and indicated the paper that Mustang had put back down on the table in front of him. "I want to do the test run today so that I have tonight to recover, and all I really need is the array I just drew out and for Mustang to go and hide somewhere."

"Why do you need the Colonel to hide?" Hotch asked, although he suspected he knew the reason why.

"Mustang is Amestrian, has a large amount of alchemic energy, has been through the Gate, and he would be the person I'd be focusing on finding. He fits all the possible criteria, and therefore he's the perfect test subject," Edward replied before he turned to face Mustang. "No time like the present, so get lost, Mustang. Just make sure you stay in the building."

Mustang rolled his eyes at Edward's bluntness. "We really need to work on your manners and diplomacy when we get back to Central, Fullmetal. I think I'll need to speak to Hawkeye about giving you some lessons in military etiquette." He stood up to leave, but paused halfway to the door and looked to the agents. "Is there anywhere in the building that's off limits?"

"The only places I can think of would be the evidence room and the holding cells. Would you like one of us to go with you? The officers will probably have issues with you wandering around without an escort or a federal badge," Hotch offered, knowing that the local police sometimes used extra conference rooms and storage rooms for case-related matters and preferred that people not working directly on the case to stay out.

Mustang thought it over for a couple of seconds before deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry and nodded in agreement. Prentiss volunteered to go with him and they left together, looking for a good place to hide from Edward's array.

* * *

Edward got to work carefully sketching the array out onto a brand new piece of paper. He needed this array to be perfect in order to minimize the potential risks, especially with onlookers in the room. He could feel the anticipation and nervous tension radiating from the agents, but paid absolutely no attention to it. Once he was satisfied with his sketch, he placed it in front of himself.

"How long has it been since they left?" he asked. He wanted to give Mustang and Prentiss plenty of time to find a good spot before he activated the array.

"They've been gone nearly three minutes now," Reid informed him.

Edward nodded in satisfaction. "That should be plenty of time. I need all of you to move over towards the door," he said firmly as he moved the sketch to the far end of the table and placed it on a clear spot. He waited until the other six agents were grouped together by the door. "I'm going to activate the array now. Do _not_ come near me until I say so. Understand?" His tone left no room for argument. After seeing all six of them nod, Edward closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he focused on Mustang and pressed his hands to the paper, activating the array.

The room lit up with blue alchemic light that blinded the agents before settling to a light, steady glow. They all stared at Edward who was standing completely still with one hand on the array to keep it active. Ed's eyes were open, but instead of shining gold, they were glowing softly with the same alchemic energy as the array was emitting. They all stood there watching Edward for nearly twenty seconds before the teenager suddenly gasped. His eyes snapped shut and he took a couple of hasty steps back from the array, ending the transmutation. He was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing like he'd just finished running a marathon.

Garcia and JJ automatically started to step forward before remembering Edward's warning and managing to stop themselves. The blond alchemist hadn't given them an all clear yet.

Focusing on controlling his breathing the way that Teacher had taught him, it took Edward another thirty seconds before he straightened and faced the others. The looks of genuine concern on their faces surprised him, but he smiled reassuringly as he stepped back over to the table and braced his hands against the top of it.

"I'm okay. I overestimated though. I'm not as tired as I was yesterday, but I could definitely do with a nap. Mustang and Prentiss are up one level and in a small room that had a coffee machine in it. I'm going to assume it was a break room of some kind." Feeling a little light-headed from the expenditure of energy, Edward made an executive decision to sit before he collapsed, while JJ called Prentiss to tell her they could come back to the conference room.

Garcia moved over to Ed and sat down in a chair next to him, her eyes showing her concerned as she poured the teen a glass of water from the pitcher that sat in the middle of the table. She pushed it towards him. "Edward, are you alright?"

He nodded and accepted the glass. "Thanks, Miss Garcia. I'm okay, just tired. It took a little more out of me than I expected, but it taught me a lot. I at least proved my theory that the tracking array works, and now that I know it works, I can teach the technique to other state alchemists."

"That was amazing, and kind of scary," Garcia said, slightly awed. "Is it always like that?"

"Hmm?" Ed asked, still a little mind-fogged as the exhaustion started to kick in. "Is what always like that?"

"Alchemy. All that light and the way your eyes changed color?" Garcia asked. "It didn't look…well…normal. Is it always like that?"

"My eyes changed colors?" Edward asked, confused.

Garcia nodded. "They were glowing with the same light as whatever that energy was."

"Huh. I didn't realize." Ed thought about it. "No one's ever mentioned anything about it to me before, and I use alchemy on nearly a daily basis." He sipped from the water and then blinked a few times, the exhaustion hitting him all at once. He put the glass back down and pushed it away from where his automail was resting on the table.

Edward folded his arms on the table in front of himself and rested his forehead on his flesh arm while he waited. He knew the agents had questions, but he didn't want to be asked twice. If he was honest with himself, he needed the small break to recover a bit more and to think over the results of the small experiment. He hadn't expected just how much energy it would take to produce the tracking waves in a confined area like the building and was realizing that when he was ready to try the large scale test, it would take exponentially more energy to track Harding from an unknown distance. However, despite the confidence he had portrayed to the agents, secretly he was more than a little surprised that it had worked so flawlessly.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his left shoulder, shaking him gently. He looked up and was startled to see Mustang kneeling next to him so that they were at eye level with each other.

"Fullmetal, are you okay?" The older alchemist's eyes were full of concern, which Edward was mildly surprised to see. He wasn't used to seeing such an obvious expression in the onyx gaze. So many years of mutual disdain had created an equivalent expression that was far more familiar for Edward to see.

"I'm fine, Mustang, just tired. Anyway, was I right? Were you in a room upstairs with a coffee machine in it?" He straightened up, eyes glancing between Mustang and Prentiss.

"Can you be more specific Edward?" Prentiss asked, almost apologetically. "There are two rooms upstairs that have coffee machines in them."

Edward frowned in concentration as he thought back to his results. "There was a fridge and a couch in there too. And someone had left a coffee mug in the sink," he answered, a little uncertainly.

"Yes! That's where we were!" Prentiss exclaimed, causing an immediate response from the other agents who had all harbored a small doubt that the array would work, not having any real idea what alchemy was capable of doing. It didn't seem possible or logical, and yet Edward had just proved the concept.

Mustang gave Ed's shoulder a squeeze, which was as good as a compliment in Ed's opinion, before he stood up and sat in the chair next to Edward. Edward had a tired smile on his face which was slightly concerning to the flame alchemist, considering that the teenager had been getting so little sleep in the last few months. Edward's legendary stubbornness could lead him to take chances and overestimate his own abilities rather than admit to any weakness, especially with a mission to accomplish. He would have to keep an eye on his subordinate and make sure that he took care of himself properly.

As the agents calmed down from their excitement at seeing what Edward had been able to accomplish, Hotch was quick to refocus their attention on the case. He met Edward's gaze levelly. "Can you explain how it works now?" He could see that the blond was tired, but he wanted to know so that they could begin making plans how to integrate it into their plans to apprehend Harding.

Edward nodded. "It used Mustang's alchemic energy to track him. In essence, I sent out a wave of alchemic energy which created a map in my mind that expanded until I located someone with alchemic abilities. I suspect that it's similar to what the alkehestrists of Xing refer to as the Dragon's Pulse – the energy that flows along the ground. I don't know much about alkehestry, to be honest – there isn't much research on it in Amestris, and the last few months haven't given me many opportunities to do any in-depth research anyway. Mustang showed up bright red when the wave reached him, while all of you were simply white. From what I could tell with such a limited sample, each alchemist has their own color. I could sense my own alchemic energy and from what I saw, I was gold."

"You were able to get a lot of details though, or at least that's what it seemed like, based on how you described the room they were in," Rossi pointed out.

"Yes and no," Edward admitted. "I deduced what I was seeing based on the shape of the objects. What I was seeing wasn't detailed like a photo. It was more like a blueprint, only with spots of white to mark where people were and a red spot when it reacted with Mustang's energy. As soon as I sensed Mustang, I stopped the transmutation. But there was a limitation. I could only see everything that was in the same direction I was facing. The wave was only sent out in the one direction, but it wasn't limited to this building."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked.

"I had started seeing the building next to this one before I stopped transmuting. What that means is that when I use it to track Harding, I'd need to know what direction he was heading. I could send more waves out to my left and right without stopping the transmutation, however behind me will always be a blind spot unless I can figure out a way to refine the array further."

Hotch nodded as he took in the information. "So how are you feeling now?" He was concerned by the obvious weariness that the teenager was displaying, but he still needed to know roughly how much ground the teen could cover in one go without overdoing it.

Edward shrugged and stifled a yawn. "I'm still tired, but I could've covered a lot more ground before I had to stop." He understood why Hotch had asked but he didn't blame the man. Mustang would've asked for the same reasons had they been back home doing this.

"Good. How much more area do you think you could've covered before you absolutely had to stop?" Hotch knew that it sounded like he cared more about the results than the alchemist's well-being, but he needed the information, both to make sure they got Harding and also that Edward didn't push himself too far.

Edward considered his stamina and the amount of energy the small scale test had required before making some educated guesses based on how this test had left him feeling. "I could probably keep that array active for four minutes before I needed to stop. Five tops," was his eventual answer.

* * *

Mustang had bristled slightly at Hotch's questions, even though he knew the man was asking exactly what he himself would have asked had they been back in Amestris and facing this same situation. He didn't understand his reaction; he just knew that he felt an overwhelming need to protect Edward from it. He only half-listened to Fullmetal's responses while he tried to figure his feelings out.

He'd known Edward and Alphonse for five years now and he'd always cared for their safety in a distant sense – the same way he would have cared for any member of his team, from Hawkeye and Havoc down to Fuery. It was part of his duty to them as their commanding officer to make sure that they were safe and properly cared for – that they received medical treatment when they were injured and weren't sent out on missions if they weren't fit for active duty.

There were times when Edward's brashness and lack of manners irritated him beyond all measure, but to counter that, the teenager had proven himself to be not only a gifted alchemist but also brave, generous, and selfless when he needed to. For five years they had grated on each others' nerves and insulted each other, but when the time came they had fought together and saved the entire country of Amestris.

What had started as a brutally honest arrangement between the two of them – Edward would serve under him in exchange for Mustang keeping the secret of the forbidden transmutation the two brothers had performed and leads on ways they could get their bodies back to normal – had transformed into mutual respect and camaraderie, and yet the habits of the past five years still carried over with the insults and banter.

"Hey Mustang, you awake over there?"

The older alchemist shook his thoughts clear and refocused his attention on Edward, who seemed a little miffed, but also slightly concerned. "Sorry, what did you want?"

"I asked you if you felt anything when I activated the array or before Agent Jareau called Agent Prentiss."

"No. I felt nothing. I didn't know you'd found me until Agent Prentiss told me we could go back." Edward breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Good, hopefully that means Harding won't be tipped off when I use the array to find him."

Edward was relieved to learn that Mustang hadn't sensed the tracking transmutation. If an alchemist of Mustang's caliber couldn't sense it, he doubted that Harding would be able to. Turning his attention back to the agents, he spoke confidently. "I'll be able to use the array again tomorrow on a larger scale. However, I suggest that we hold off using me until we have a fresh, confirmed lead on Harding's whereabouts. It makes no sense for me to activate this array somewhere he has likely moved a good distance away from."

"I wouldn't ask you to waste your energy on a sighting that was old or unconfirmed," Hotch replied, his tone a little irked that the teenager had assumed otherwise. Edward simply nodded in response and then yawned abruptly before he could smother it. He glanced down at the sketch of his tracking array, his mind already working on a way to refine it and make it so that he wouldn't have a blind spot, when something occurred to him.

"Dr. Reid, where is that map we were working on yesterday?"

Reid glanced over at the stacks of files and papers on the table and unearthed the map the two of them had been using to begin the geographic profile. He made sure all of the pins were in the same locations as they had been yesterday before placing the map in front of Edward.

Edward studied the pins for a moment and then began slowly removing a few of the different colors. It wouldn't be hard to put them back in if the theory that had suddenly occurred to him didn't pan out. The agents and Mustang watched with interest as Edward began thinning out the multitude of pins that had been put on the map. By the time he was done, only three colors remained – colors that indicated where the victims had lived, where they had gone missing from, and where their bodies had been discovered.

"Mustang, do you see what I see?" Edward asked, turning the map slightly so that Mustang could study it.

Roy looked over the map with a critical eye and then, suddenly, he saw it and cursed. "Damn Harding. Is he doing it deliberately, so you think?"

Edward considered the question for a moment. "I don't think so. He wouldn't have any way to influence where the victims lived, even if it is a surprising coincidence how their homes line up this way. But it's not out of the realm of statistical possibility either."

"What is it?" Hotch asked, coming to stand behind Edward and Mustang as the other agents also gathered around the map. They studied the map, but the pins still seemed to be scattered randomly across the map of Manhattan. There wasn't an obvious pattern that any of them could determine.

"You don't see it?" Edward asked. When the agents shook their heads, Edward took a sheet of paper and quickly drew out what appeared to be a transmutation array, but it didn't look anything like the ones that the agents had previously seen. Edward placed his smaller sketch next to the map. "Do you see it now?"

While Edward's sketch was more detailed, now that it was side by side with the map, the agents finally saw it. There were fewer points on the map, but it was clear that the pattern of the pins lined up almost exactly in the same shape of the array that Edward had just drawn out.

"What does it mean?" Rossi asked. "It must mean something to Harding, based on your reaction."

"It's Harding's boiling array," Edward said. "I got a good look at it when I was helping Mustang come up with an array to counter the traps set at Harding's home. I didn't notice it yesterday because I was so interested in what Dr. Reid was saying about how geographic profiling works."

"So does it help us in anyway?" Morgan asked.

Edward shrugged. "It's hard to know for sure, but I don't think it's deliberate. Circles are a basis of alchemy and alchemists think about them almost instinctively if they have any level of experience. Harding's been an alchemist for long enough that using a circle is second nature to him, and the fact that this is his own personal circle for his alchemic specialty would make it even more instinctive and natural." He stifled another yawn and shook his head slightly, in an effort to stay awake.

"The fact that Harding's victims look like our State Alchemists is one coincidence, but Harding couldn't possibly predict where they live in this world," Mustang added. "He might be choosing the locations where he attacks them and dumps the bodies, but I highly doubt that he's looking at a map and planning those places out with the intention of forming his circle. It wouldn't do anything here even if he completes it. It's impossible to perform alchemy on that scale."

"But if you're right, we might start to find other bodies elsewhere on this circle?" Hotch asked thoughtfully.

"I would imagine so, unless Harding isn't able to find anymore duplicates of Amestrian State Alchemists here in this city," Mustang agreed.

"It gives us another angle to explore," Hotch said. He glanced at his watch and noted that it was only seven in the evening – but the younger alchemist had had an exhausting day. "Edward, Colonel Mustang, Morgan, and JJ. You four go back to the hotel and get some sleep. We'll take shifts until we get a more confirmed lead on Harding's whereabouts. If nothing comes up overnight, then come morning JJ, we'll have you help with briefing the dayshift of the patrol officers and try to have them focus their patrols along the areas that fall on this circle. No arguing," he added the last part when he noticed Morgan opening his mouth to protest his orders.

Morgan shut his mouth and simply nodded, even though he wasn't too happy with the idea. Edward was too tired to argue, and Mustang was just happy that he didn't have to leave Edward's side, especially with the younger alchemist as tired as he was. He didn't completely trust the agents to be able to protect Ed if something happened.

They left the precinct, Edward a little wobbly at first, and hopped in the car. Fortunately, the ride back to the hotel was uneventful, other than Edward desperately trying to stay awake until they reached it. With the car in park, they crossed the parking lot cautiously; wary of another possible ambush, but they made it safely into the building and up to their rooms.

Edward headed straight for his bed, leaving Mustang to lock and secure the door as he shed his boots, socks, and jackets in record time. He was curled up under his blankets and nearly asleep before Mustang had even finished removing his own boots and socks.

"Ed, are you sure you're okay?" Mustang couldn't keep the concern out of his voice at the question.

Edward snapped his eyes back open and locked gazes with the Colonel. He wasn't used to Mustang being this concerned about his well-being. "I'm fine, I just need to sleep. Why are you acting so concerned all of a sudden?"

Mustang barely stopped himself from flinching under the golden gaze. "I've always been concerned about you and your brother Ed. I just couldn't show it back home. People would have considered you one of my weak spots, and they would've got after you to exploit that. As it was, you were always a convenient target for kidnappers. If it wasn't for the fact that Bradley wanted to keep you close, I suspect that you and Al would have been sent to another commander when he split up my team."

Edward was stunned at the admission. He'd never considered that Mustang would've cared about the two of them, and certainly not enough that the older alchemist was actually protecting them that much. Sitting up a little, he searched Mustang's face for any hints of a lie. He found none. "You seriously cared about us that much?"

"I still do. I was always worried when you went on missions and I was worse whenever I heard you'd been injured," Mustang answered, completely honest.

Edward's gaze softened. "Thanks, Colonel. I promise I'm fine. I seriously just need sleep and a decent breakfast in the morning and I'll be one hundred percent again."

Mustang nodded. "Get some sleep, then Ed. I'll talk to one of the agents in the morning about getting you breakfast."

"Make sure it's a lot." Edward shuffled back under the blankets, much to Mustang's amusement.

"Don't worry, I know what you're like," Mustang chuckled as he made himself comfortable in his bed, before turning the light off.

"Thanks. Goodnight, bastard."

"Night, brat."

 **A/N - So here's chapter 6 all revised for you guys to enjoy! Let me know what you think to it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

When Edward opened his eyes, he expected to be greeted by the walls and decoration of the hotel room he and Mustang were staying in. Instead, he struggled to take in his surroundings and make sense of them. From the looks of it, he appeared to be in the main park in Central City, back home in Amestris. He frowned as he sat up, flesh hand moving up to rub his head, mainly to check for injuries, anything to explain why he was suddenly in a park instead of a hotel room. Maybe he'd been kidnapped? But he found nothing. The frown didn't disappear as he forced himself to stand up and look around.

He was definitely in the main park in Central. There was no mistaking the lamp posts or the kinds of trees. Not to mention the buildings when he looked around. He gave himself a visual once over but could see no signs of blood or dirt that would indicate he'd been in a fight. Had he and Mustang finished their mission to capture Harding? Maybe Truth had dropped them in Central's park the same way it had dropped them in the park in New York City. It was the sort of dick move that Edward had come to expect from Truth, so it wouldn't be beyond the realm of probability that could be what had happened.

Shaking out his arms and legs, he ascertained that both his flesh and automail limbs were fully functional and not bruised or broken before he pushed himself to his feet. He heard the faint sound of someone's voice from the other side of the trees and that's when it struck him how quiet it was. No matter the time, you could _always_ count on some noise when you were in Central. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up and his instincts were screaming at him to leave but, of course, he didn't. He wasn't the type to run away from a fight.

Instead, he headed for the source of the only sound he could hear; a yelling voice that sounded familiar in a way that he couldn't place. He followed the footpath ahead of him until he was standing on top of the hill before deciding to cut across the grass, hoping to catch the person unawares. His gut was roiling with nerves and anxiety that only grew with every step he took towards the unknown person. He'd barely gotten halfway across the grass towards the tree line when he realized that it wasn't one voice that he was hearing, but two. He tried to keep his breathing quiet so he could hear them better and he was convinced that he recognized both voices. The thought of how he'd ended back in Central in the middle of the night, in the middle of a park without Mustang was pushed to the back of his mind as he crept closer to the voices.

He felt his breath freeze when he actually laid eyes on the two people standing further along the footpath, underneath a pool of golden light created by the nearby light post. Lieutenant Colonel – no, Brigadier General - Hughes and Lieutenant Maria Ross were standing in front of a payphone, the actual phone still gripped in Hughes' hand as he spoke to Ross. Ed felt his eyes water with tears as he laid eyes on Hughes, alive and healthy. Then Ross raised a gun and Hughes said a few more words to her, causing her to grin. The grin – it was completely wrong. Ed knew Maria, knew her well, and she'd never smiled that coldly before to anyone. Her smiles were always soft and warm, not that twisted version currently curled on her lips.

Ed had barely started breathing again when red energy crackled around Ross' form and she transformed into Gracia in front of Hughes. Suddenly, it all clicked for Ed. That red energy could only be caused by one thing; a Philosopher's Stone. Even more, there was only one thing he knew of that could use a stone to shift forms and that was Envy. Those two facts added to where they were meant that somehow Ed had arrived in the park at the exact time when Hughes had died trying to get vital information to Mustang.

No longer caring about stealth, Ed tore away from his hiding place. Neither Hughes nor Envy turned towards him and Ed didn't have the time to waste wondering _why_ they didn't turn to him. He was, after all, making a lot of noise and should've been easily spotted, especially by Hughes and the homunculus. He felt his panic growing rapidly as Envy-Gracia's lips twisted into a feral grin and her finger moved to the trigger.

He had a chance to save Hughes – to make sure that Mustang didn't lose his best friend; that Gracia and Elysia didn't lose the most important person in their lives. He didn't know how or why Truth would have decided to drop him at this exact moment, but he had the chance and he was going to take it.

Ed opened his mouth to try and get Hughes to just move out of the way but no sound came out. He was only a few meters away now, stretching his arm out desperately to close that gap, to get to Hughes just that little bit quicker. He heard Envy-Gracia laugh manically and Hughes' despondent whisper of his wife's name.

Then came the sound that he had been dreading to hear ever since he'd found out about how Hughes had died. Ed felt the stiff cloth of Hughes' military issue jacket on the fingertips of his flesh hand as he made to push Hughes out of the way. Then Hughes jerked backwards, away from Ed and the fake Gracia, falling like a puppet when its strings got cut to slump gracelessly to the floor of the phone booth. Ed managed to stop himself from tripping over the man's sprawled feet, twisting where he stood before crouching and grabbing desperately for Hughes.

He refused to acknowledge the dead eyes staring back at him, the fact that the blood pooling from the wound wasn't gushing out like it should be if his heart was still pumping, that his flesh fingers couldn't find a pulse. He tore off his signature red coat to press it against the wound, trying to stop the blood from flowing but the coat was soon drenched, Hughes' blood staining Ed's gloves and seeping through the material. Ed wanted to throw up at the fact that he could feel Hughes' blood on his hand, his tears adding to the mess.

"This is your fault, Pipsqueak." Ed turned to face the fake Gracia only to find that she'd changed back to look like Envy once more. "If only you hadn't kept pushing. If only you hadn't let yourself get so attached to the man. If only you'd managed to convince him to stop digging. This wouldn't have happened. A man you counted as family wouldn't be lying here alone; the last thing he'd have seen wouldn't have been his beloved wife shooting him in cold blood, the last thing he'd heard wouldn't have been his best friend's desperate cries of his name as he hoped the sound he'd heard wasn't a gunshot." Envy sneered, his voice a false simpering tone. "After all, Pipsqueak, everyone you care about always leaves you. Why would he be any different?" Envy disappeared and Ed turned back to Hughes.

"Please don't die, Hughes. You can't." Ed finally heard his voice for the first time tonight. It was scratchy from his screaming earlier and was thick with his sobs. "You've _got_ to live. For Elysia, for Gracia, for Mustang. For me. _Please_ don't leave us," he begged. He pressed more harshly on his coat-made-bandage and felt bile rise in his throat as blood leaked out of the saturated cloth and onto his already soaked gloves. He could hear the squelching noise the blood made as he put more pressure on the wound, knowing deep down inside there was no way a human could survive losing this much blood. In fact, there should be no way a gunshot wound that was immediately fatal should be leaking this much blood.

Ed noticed the moment Hughes' dead eyes moved to lock with his and that sent him scrambling backwards, leaving bloody handprints and smears on the footpath as he did so. He watched in horror as Hughes' corpse sat up from its slouching position and slowly climbed to its feet. Ed's red coat fell from where it sat on his chest and landed on the ground with a sickeningly wet splash, blood splattering thickly from where it lay. Hughes looked down at the wound in his chest, his own blood staining the surrounding material, before looking back at Edward.

Ed's vision blurred as a new onslaught of tears threatened to fall as Hughes' dead gaze met his. He couldn't describe how wrong it was to look Hughes in the eye and not get any kind of emotion in return. No joy, no sadness, no anger, no neutrality, no nothing. Hughes pulled himself to his feet and shuddered as Hughes' gaze followed his every move. Ed wanted to run, run as far away as he could but his legs wouldn't move. He could only watch as Hughes walked closer to him, one steady step at a time. He gasped when Hughes was right up in his space, analyzing him before leaning down so his cold cheek pressed against Ed's tear-soaked one. Ed tried to pull away but he couldn't move an inch.

"It's your fault I died without getting a chance to see Elysia grow up. Your fault Gracia is a widow. Your fault I died alone and scared, in the middle of an empty park, with no one around to find me for hours. Your fault Mustang had to hear my murder over the phone. This is all your fault. I should have never taken you in. Tragedy follows you wherever you go and it's always us that pay the price." Hughes' breath was achingly cold where it brushed over his ear and Ed trembled where he knelt on the footpath but Hughes wasn't done yet. "Your mother, Nina, Alexander and now me. Who's next, Edward? Who must die next for you to learn your lesson? Alphonse? Winry? Mustang? Elysia? Who else has to die for you?" Hughes asked and Ed sobbed as he watched the man pull away from him. Those dead eyes still showed no emotion as the man stepped out of Ed's space.

"I didn't want anyone to die." Ed sobbed, still frozen in place. He couldn't even bring his hands up to hide his face, not that he wanted to since his gloves were covered in blood. "I didn't want _you_ to die."

"Don't worry, Edward." Hughes' emotionless voice made Ed wince. The dead man brought a hand up and brushed away some of the tears on Ed's cheeks in what could've been a comforting gesture if it weren't for the fact Hughes' skin was ice cold and his eyes still held nothing. "You only cost Gracia her chance at a life with a husband and robbed Elysia of her father." The hand left his face and Ed gasped – in relief or despair, he didn't know – before watching Hughes walk back to the phone booth and lay himself back down in the position he'd been laying in when Envy shot him.

" _Did big brother really kill daddy? Is that why he won't come home_?" Elysia's sweet voice had Ed spinning on the spot, trying to find her but seeing nothing.

" _That's right, sweetheart. Your big brother got him killed. He stole your father from us. It's his fault we had to bury him._ " Gracia's kind voice didn't match her words and, once again, Ed couldn't find her when he tried to look.

" _That's right, Fullmetal. You're a murderer. You may not have pulled the trigger but you might as well have. You knew he'd never stop helping you but you didn't try hard enough to stop him. You killed my best friend._ " Mustang's cold sneer sounded like it was hissed in Ed's ear, causing the blonde to spin around, eyes wide and frantic but no one was there.

He scrambled backwards, trying desperately to get away from the voices, but they were surrounding him, invisible, but clearly there. The wrist of his flesh hand suddenly buckled as it hit a rock, and he fell over on his side, curling up in a fetal position.

" _It's your fault I'm dead!"_

" _You killed daddy!"_

" _You forced us to bury my husband!"_

" _You murdered my best friend!"_

Ed buried his face against his arms as he cried while the voices continued taunting him, whispering their accusations in his ears as the tears were soaked into the sleeve of his black jacket. It was all his fault. The voices were right. He didn't know why they had pretended like he wasn't to blame for Hughes' death all this time, but he knew the truth. He had always known the truth. He ruined lives no matter who they were or how they happened to come in contact with him.

* * *

Ed sat straight up in bed, gasping and covered in sweat. Calming his breathing as much as was possible, he looked around, trying to figure out where he was this time. After a moment, he realized that he was in the hotel room he was currently sharing with Mustang while they hunted down Harding. That realization helped to calm him even more. It had just been a nightmare. It had apparently been too much to hope that the energy he had expended by using his new tracking array would drain him enough that he could get a solid night's sleep for a change.

He was no stranger to the nightmares, after all. He'd seen more horrible things than most people his age could ever imagine, so it wasn't any real mystery why he had them. They were part of his punishment for all of the terrible things he'd done during his quest to get Alphonse's body back, and for the crime he'd originally committed on the night that he'd violated the taboo, so he had absolutely no regrets.

Even so, sometimes he just wished they'd go away. They were exhausting, both mentally and physically. He was almost always tired these days, which had never been an issue before he and Al had succeeded in their quest. During their journey, they'd always been on the move and almost always in life threatening situations or on missions for the military. Plus, he'd always had Al to wake him up before his nightmares turned really bad. Once he woke up from them, he'd always been able to fall back into a dreamless sleep.

Unfortunately, this time he knew that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. His eyes fell on Mustang's sleeping form and a shudder passed through his body involuntarily.

" _You murdered my best friend!"_

He flinched as the echo of Mustang's accusations rang in his head. He knew that the words had just been part of his nightmare, but there was a part of him that couldn't help but wonder if Mustang really did blame him for Hughes' death. After all, the Colonel had lied to him and Al about what had happened to Hughes when they'd first returned to Central after their visit to Teacher in Dublith. In all the chaos surrounding the Promised Day, they'd had to put aside any personal disputes or irritations, or they wouldn't have been able to defeat the homunculi and save Amestris.

Edward slipped out of his bed and headed for the bathroom. Whenever he was unable to sleep in Amestris, he would read, go for a walk, or do both, depending on what Al was interested in doing. Here though? He didn't have any reading material and going for a walk in an unfamiliar city while there was a rogue alchemist murdering the lookalikes of other alchemists didn't seem like a brilliant idea. Despite what Mustang thought, Edward didn't always go looking for trouble.

Splashing water on his face, Ed looked at his reflection in the mirror. While he looked tired, he didn't think he looked _too_ exhausted. In his mind, he looked about how he would be expected to look considering it was the middle of the night and he hadn't gotten a full night's sleep. Sighing, he straightened up as he contemplated what he should do now. He couldn't read, going outside without back up was just asking for trouble and he didn't feel like sitting his bed alone with his thoughts. His next best option was exploring the hotel, maybe going down to the lobby and seeing if there was anything there to entertain him.

Decision made, he went back into the bedrooms and quietly slipped on his boots, socks, and red jacket, forgoing his belt and black jacket for the time being. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he exited the room and made his way down the dimly lit hallway, trying to muddle his way through his thoughts and banish the memory of those accusing voices from his nightmare. He was surprised to find himself suddenly in the lobby. It was still brightly lit and manned by one person. Ed made his way over to the counter and caught the attendant's attention.

"Hello, sir. Is everything alright with your room?" The clerk, whose name badge read "James", asked with concern. In his experience, no guest came out of his room at three in the morning unless there was a problem with the room.

"Hmm? Oh, no. There's no problem with the room. I just can't sleep." Ed almost missed the small sigh of relief the clerk released upon hearing that.

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. How may I help?" Guests with sleeping problems weren't uncommon. James just hoped that there was an easy solution to this guest's problem.

"I was just hoping that you might have any books I could borrow. It doesn't matter what genre. If not, would you have any paper and pencils I could steal? And is there a quiet room somewhere that I could use?" Edward didn't feel like explaining why he was awake to Mustang, should the man actually wake up.

James didn't look surprised by his requests. Turning around, he went into a cupboard behind the registration desk and pulled out a small box that held a dozen or so books, and then put several sheets of paper and a few pencils on top of the box. He turned back to face Edward and slid the box across the counter towards him. "Sometimes guests leave belongings behind at the end of their stay. These are books that haven't been collected by their owners yet. You're welcome to read them, but please return them all when you're done, just in case their owners turn up and want them back."

He indicated a door at the opposite end of the lobby. "There's an empty conference room over there that we use for business meetings. You're welcome to use it for as long as you like, as we don't have any meetings scheduled for a few days."

Hefting the box into his arms, Edward thanked James and headed towards the room that had been indicated. Shifting the box so that its weight was being solely held up by his automail, he opened the door, switched on the lights, and closed the door behind himself once he entered. He plonked the box of books onto the table and studied his surroundings. There was some sort of white sheet-like object hanging on the wall directly opposite the door, enough chairs for at least ten people to sit around the central table, and a few extra chairs along one wall. There was a weird boxy contraption hanging from the room and it seemed to be pointed at the white sheet. Ed surmised that the two objects were related to one another. There was also a small coffee station on his left. Ed was tempted, but didn't want to risk breaking the machine because he didn't know how to use it properly. Besides, he wasn't tired enough to need coffee to wake up now that he had the books.

Choosing a chair away from the door, a habit he had picked up during the time when he was being hunted by the homunculi, he started to sort the books out. There were a few biographies, a fantasy novel, a couple of romance novels that Ed was never going to touch in a million years, a few true-crime novels, and some textbooks. Ed looked at his options and decided to start with the textbooks. A quick glance confirmed they were from different schools, so he hoped they'd be as close to what he normally read as possible. There seemed to be two focusing on this dimension's sciences and one about history.

They weren't as detailed as he would have preferred, but a half-hour later he was a bit better versed in some of the history and science of this dimension. He was relieved to see that even though this dimension didn't use alchemy, they did seem to have a pretty thorough understanding of chemistry and biology which wasn't all that different from what he was familiar with in Amestris. As far as history went, he was glad to know that, so far, Amestris and her neighbouring countries hadn't initiated anything on the same scale as the World Wars of this dimension. Even the Ishvalen War of Extermination, horrible as it was, hadn't been as terrible as the wars of this world. Shaking his head at the atrocities committed in this dimension's past, he moved on to the true crime novels.

None of them were particular difficult to read, but they were still fascinating and much more interesting than boring military records. As he'd hoped, they gave him a much better explanation as to how the police here worked. He also learned that, aside from some technological advances and other minor things, there weren't that many differences between how the Amestrian MPs and the police of this dimension operated. Granted, this world didn't have alchemy to hinder or help and investigation, present case excluded. The murders in these books always seemed pretty straight forward, but Ed took extra time with them that he hadn't with the textbooks, making sure that he never missed anything that might prove useful during this case. There were some terms and techniques he didn't quite understand, but he fully intended to get Doctor Reid, Agent Jareau, or Miss Garcia to explain them more fully to him.

As he put the final crime novel down, he looked at his final choices of novels. He'd never been a fan of nonfiction unless it related to alchemy, and considering that he didn't know anything about any of the people these biographies were about, he didn't foresee them capturing his interest. He also never really cared for fantasy novels, although he knew that Al had enjoyed reading them during the long nights he'd been forced to spend alone when he'd been bonded to the armour. But he downright refused to touch the romance novels, which left him with limited choices, so, grimacing a little, he drew out the fantasy novel and started reading.

* * *

He was abruptly interrupted by the meeting room door swinging open rather violently. Startled, he slammed the book shut and leapt to his feet, falling into a defensive stance and readying his hands to transmute his automail blade before he recognized the intruder.

"For fuck's sake, Mustang! Don't do that!" Edward exclaimed, relaxing out of his stance and glaring at his commanding officer. He could see James standing behind Mustang, clearly ready to remove the older man if Ed asked him to, although he looked nervous about possibly having to lay hands on another of the hotel's guests. Mustang's expression, however, was a strange mixture of angry, concerned, and relieved. Edward wasn't as confused by Mustang's reaction as he ordinarily would have been, not after what the colonel had admitted before they'd gone to sleep, but he knew that he was most likely in for a lecture. When Mustang lectured, it lasted for a while, as he well knew from lots of previous experience.

So, before the lecture could begin, Ed pre-empted it by addressing James. "James, it's okay. He's my boss, and I can handle him." Edward smiled at the clerk, who looked relieved that he wouldn't need to step in and help. Nodding, the older man turned and headed back for the relative safety of the desk. As soon as he was out of the room, Mustang had the door shut and had turned back to face Edward.

"Before you start your lecture – "

"I'm not going to lecture you, Ed," Mustang interrupted, shaking his head.

Ed's eyes widened in surprise. "You're not?" He knew his tone was a little incredulous. Mustang had never before turned down an opportunity to lecture or gloat, unexpected heart-felt confessions aside. Maybe he wasn't feeling well?

"No, I'm not." Mustang moved towards a chair and sat down. Edward took the hint and followed his commander's lead, choosing the chair next to Mustang, still feeling a little startled at not being lectured. "I know you had a nightmare last night. You woke me up when you woke up."

Edward flushed a little. He hated showing any sort of weakness in front of people. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Now it was Mustang's turn to be surprised. Ed rarely apologized to anyone whose name wasn't Alphonse. He barely even said sorry to Winry or his teacher. In fact, Mustang could count the number of times Edward had ever apologized to him on one hand with fingers to spare.

Edward smirked at the shocked look on his superior's face. "Don't look so surprised. I do know how to say sorry."

Mustang mentally shook himself out of his surprise. "Obviously, but you don't need to apologize. Well, not for waking me, anyway. I'd honestly prefer you to wake me if you ever have another nightmare. I'm not going to pretend to know what your nightmares are like, what with everything you've seen and done, but I do know what it's like to have nightmares that would drive anyone into insomnia. I also know what it means to just have someone there who understands. After the Ishval War, Maes and I both got used to a lot of middle of the night phone calls from each other until we found ways to cope with them by ourselves. You _don't_ need to go through this alone. And don't think for a second that I'd ever use this against you in the future." Mustang added, pointing a stern finger at Edward. He knew the kid didn't like showing weakness and he also knew that was mainly because he was afraid that Mustang would use it to make fun of him, the same way he did with Edward's sensitivity about his height. Mustang was willing to admit that he could be a bastard at times, but there were just some things that you never use against people.

" _You murdered my best friend! You may not have pulled the trigger but you might as well have! Maes is dead because of you!"_

The accusations from his nightmare rang in Edward's head as Mustang spoke. He _knew_ the words were only born from his deepest anxieties and fears, but he couldn't help but flinch when Mustang pointed at him. He'd been having nightmares for so long, shaking himself free of the hold they had on him wouldn't be an easy prospect, assuming that such a thing was even possible. But he'd never one expected Mustang to actually request that Ed wake him up whenever he had a nightmare.

Mustang took his confused silence to mean that Edward agreed, so he continued with the second part of his little speech. "Also, never take off like that again without telling me. I expected you might've needed to take a walk but I expected you to be back relatively quickly, especially since we're in a country completely different from ours. I thought you might've decided to do something idiotic like hunt Harding down yourself." Mustang smirked at the look on Ed's face at his last words.

"Hey! I'm not that stupid!" Ed protested.

"Have you forgotten about when you baited Scar in Central to lure out the homunculi? Or when you, Alphonse, and Ling fought Gluttony in the forest and you got yourself eaten? Your track record doesn't exactly speak for itself."

Edward huffed in protest, but knew he really couldn't defend himself. It honestly wouldn't have been the first time he actively sought out someone who might try to kill him on sight. But still! He scowled in annoyance at his inability to come up with a good defense. Mustang still had that damned smirk on his face.

"So, are we in agreement? You'll wake me up when you have nightmares, and you'll at least tell me where you're going and when you'll be back?" Mustang asked, barely managing to mask the pleading tone from his voice. He had been so worried when the blond hadn't come back to the room after an hour, and he knew damn well why. It wasn't solely because of Ed's remarkable ability to attract trouble no matter where he was. He just knew that Maes was laughing at him from beyond the grave.

The panic he'd felt when Ed hadn't returned to the room had been exactly the same as the one time he'd babysat Elysia for Gracia and she'd managed to disappear from his sight. The relief he'd felt when he'd found Ed in this room was exactly the same as the relief he'd felt when he'd found Elysia curled up on a blanket in her mother's closet. He also knew that Ed would probably deck him with his automail fist and yell at him if he ever found out just how much Roy cared about him. He knew it was irrational to worry about Ed every time the younger alchemist was out of his sight. Fullmetal was unbelievably strong and incredibly smart, even more so than Roy himself, not that he'd ever admit that to the blond. The gloating would never end. But at the same time, he couldn't help but worry about the Elric brothers. Ed's voice broke his train of thought.

"Fine, but only if you do the same. If you have to go somewhere, you need to tell me too. Equivalent exchange." Edward's eyes and tone of voice left zero room for argument, not that Roy would have actually protested. It was only fair after all.

"Deal. Now how about we head back to our room and try to get some more sleep?" Roy asked, standing up, noting that Ed again copied his movements.

"Okay. I know sleep is more important the older you are." Ed smirked, knowing that Mustang wouldn't be able to resist the bait.

"I am not old, shrimp!" Mustang retorted.

"Don't make me punch you in the face, Mustang." Edward threatened, but there was no malice in his voice.

"Can you even reach that high?" Mustang couldn't help but laugh at him as he skirted out of Ed's punching range.

"Why don't you come over here and we'll find out, old man?" Ed growled at him, gathering up his borrowed books. Mustang declined that challenge, instead holding the door open to let Edward through since the blond's arms were occupied.

Edward accidentally trod on Mustang's foot with his automail leg as he passed him. "Oops, my bad," he taunted while Mustang hopped on one foot, cursing. Laughing to himself, Edward returned to the front desk to give the borrowed books back to James, who seemed pleased to see him still in one piece. "Thanks for lending me these."

James took the box and stowed them away. "My pleasure. I'm glad you and your boss were able to sort things out."

"Yeah, no need to worry. I can kick his ass any day of the week," Ed laughed as he turned away from James with a half wave and made his way to intercept Mustang. They were just about to head up to their room when they suddenly found themselves facing an irritated Morgan and a relieved looking JJ.

"Where were you two?" Morgan demanded but immediately cut both of them off before they could answer. "Never mind. Go back to your room and finish getting dressed. Be back here in no more than five minutes."

"Wait, why? What happened?" Mustang asked.

"I got a call from Rossi. Harding killed someone less than ten minutes ago. And he was spotted running from the scene this time."

 **A/N - So chap 7 has been revised for you lovely people! I haven't heard from anyone wanting it so I've decided against reposting my original story as a separate story. It is up on AO3 if you want to read the original version though :) Let me know what you think to this revision!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It took the two alchemists precisely two seconds to race straight for their shared room after Morgan relayed the news about the most recently discovered body. Once in their room, both alchemists were ready to go in thirty seconds flat, however, Ed grabbed Mustang's arm to stop him from leaving. Ignoring Mustang's confused look, Ed picked up the marker he had borrowed the previous day from the hotel staff and uncapped it, turning back to face his commanding officer.

"Alright, show me some skin."

Mustang almost choked while Ed burst out laughing at the expression on his face. "Relax, Mustang. I'm going to draw the energy absorbing array I made yesterday on both of us. It needs to be drawn onto the skin directly for it to be effective. So you need to choose a spot you can easily access to activate the array, should we find ourselves in an alchemic fight with Harding," Ed explained, although not all the humor was quite out of his voice.

Mustang glared at Edward, but started to consider the best placement for the array. "You think Harding will attack us?" he asked as he finally decided on his abdomen. If he left his shirt loose instead of tucking it in the way he usually did, he could easily slip a hand up underneath it to activate it. He untucked his shirt and lifted it out of the way so Ed could draw the array. "He already attacked us once outside the hotel and you were able to repel it. He wouldn't make the same mistake again, would he?"

"I don't know. I've just got this…feeling. I can't explain it yet, but something's not adding up for me. I just think we should be prepared for anything," Ed replied as he bent over slightly so that he was eye level with Mustang's gut. (Which was something he never ever thought he'd have to do.) "Don't flinch. I'm about to start," he added as a warning.

Mustang nodded and stood as still as he could, which was hard considering he was slightly ticklish. But it was all over in a matter of seconds, much to Mustang's relief. He wasn't sure how long he could have tolerated the ticklish feel of the marker if the array had been more complex than it was.

Ed stared at his handiwork for a few extra seconds, double checking the symbols and line work. As with every array, every single part had to be perfect. A rebound would occur if it wasn't, and Edward wasn't willing to find out just how bad a rebound this particular array would be against the alchemist who activated it. He shuddered just thinking about it. Satisfied with the appearance of the array on Mustang's skin, he straightened up and pushed up the sleeves of his left arm to expose his forearm. Mustang was thinking about what Ed said as he finished loosely tucking in the tail of his shirt.

"Oi, make yourself useful, Colonel Bastard."

Mustang immediately noticed the kid's problem. His sleeves kept falling back to cover over the area Edward was trying to draw his array on, making it impossible for Ed to finish the array without any mistakes. He moved to stand to Edward's left and pulled the sleeves up, holding them in place. Edward glared at him, waiting for him to make a comment about his height or his jackets, but when none were forthcoming, went back to his task.

"What did you mean when you said nothing was adding up for you?" Mustang asked after a moment. He'd had a bad feeling ever since Agent Morgan had told them Harding had killed again. Harding knew they were here. He knew who he and Ed were and knew their reputations weren't exaggerated. So why did he kill someone and risk Ed and Roy catching his trail instead of staying out of sight. He noticed Ed had finished his array and let go of his sleeves. Ed recapped the marker before sighing.

"Come on, we need to get back to the agents. I'll explain on the way," he added the last part to quell any objection Mustang might've had as he moved towards the door. A little irked at Edward's not-quite-dismissal of his question, Mustang followed him out, shutting the door a little more firmly than necessary.

"Now, there are some limitations to the array. It probably won't stay active for more than ten minutes, fifteen if we're actually using the alchemic energy. I don't know about you, but it takes me nearly twelve hours to recover after a full alchemic fight in Amestris, one where I nearly drain all the energy immediately available to me. Here, we have maybe a quarter of the usual energy available to us, so it would take me nearly four times as long to completely refill my internal supply. With this array, we can absorb the energy at triple the rate we do now. If we activate it during any alchemic fight with Harding, we shouldn't lose much more energy than normal, as long as we wrap the fight up before the array deactivates. After that, our transmutations will drain us twice as fast as they would back home."

Mustang absorbed this information. He wasn't going to take anything Ed told him about alchemy lightly, especially not about an array the kid himself created. But he noticed a detail that Edward hadn't elaborated on. "There's nothing that would prevent us from immediately reactivating the array once it deactivates is there?"

"Only the limits of available energy in our vicinity," Edward replied. "We'll absorb it three times as fast as we would without the array, which means we'll also deplete it from our surrounding area three times as fast – well, six times as fast if we're both using the array at the same time. I don't want to theorize about what a rebound might do to us if we tried activating the array when there wasn't enough alchemic energy available for the array to draw in."

"Got it. Now back to my original question. What about this isn't adding up for you?" Mustang noticed that they'd almost reached Agents Morgan and Jareau, the former looking a little irritated.

Edward sighed. He knew that Mustang wouldn't forget, but he'd hoped that his commander would at least let it go for a little while. He didn't particularly like to try to explain his thought processes with anyone except Alphonse, but Al knew him better than anyone else did, and bouncing ideas off of his brother usually yielded interesting avenues of exploration. With Mustang, he didn't really know what might happen. Mustang had a different way of looking at alchemy, since he had obviously been trained by a different teacher in his early years of being an alchemist, but his alchemic knowledge also wasn't as broad as Ed and Al's was, thanks to Teacher's training and their own variety of research over the years. Was it possible that Mustang might be able to help him out in the same way Al did, or would he only be setting himself up for more taunting?

"The Truth never told us exactly what happened, but I don't think that Harding came here the same way we did. Something else brought him here. If Truth had permitted him to pass, then it would be able to bring him back. Everyone who passes through Truth's Gate is linked to it, whether they want to be or not. If Harding got out of hand or started to go against the deal he and Truth made, Truth would simply force him back. Since Truth was forced to call in the favor I owed it, my guess is that Harding bypassed Truth somehow. I just don't know how. It goes completely against equivalent exchange." Once Ed had started, he couldn't stop, even after they reached the two agents. Neither JJ nor Morgan knew what Ed was talking about, but they didn't have time to ask.

"About time you two turned up. Come on; you can finish whatever the hell you're talking about in the car. We've got to go," Morgan ordered, already hurrying towards the entrance with JJ on his heels. The two alchemists wisely decided not to risk pissing the already irritated agent off even more and followed both of them to the car. Morgan didn't waste any time in pulling out onto the street, barely giving his passengers a chance to fasten their safety belts, and pressing a button to turn on a set of flashing red and blue lights. Whatever the lights meant, it seemed to help them make their way through traffic with more ease than Mustang would have expected considering that even this late at night the streets were still bustling and active. Mustang had a feeling that Morgan drove whenever he was able, much like Hawkeye. He could only hope that the man wasn't as trigger happy as his lieutenant. He had a feeling that the agent wasn't as likely to fire a warning shot as Hawkeye was.

* * *

As they drove, Mustang was mulling over what Ed had been telling him. He could see why the situation wasn't adding up for the teen. Equivalent exchange was the most important rule in alchemy – the foundation of all alchemic teachings, in fact. It was the first thing that ever single alchemy student was taught. So how did Harding manage to bypass Truth with a transmutation as massive as dimensional travel? It made no sense whatsoever. He glanced at Edward, but the kid was busy looking out the window. To a casual observer, the teen was absorbed in watching the scenery flash by, but Mustang was too used to the blond's habits to be fooled by the casual pose. Ed was trying to figure out an answer that made sense.

Suddenly, Edward sat up straight, as if he'd been electrocuted. "Mustang –" he started to say, but Morgan slammed on the brakes, interrupting his train of thought.

"We're here. Let's go find the others," the agent said, already half out of the car. Whatever Ed was about to say was quickly forgotten as they followed the two agents. Neither alchemist was a stranger to murder scenes, but this time they were in a completely foreign country where they didn't know the laws or procedures. With a shared, silent glance, they agreed to follow the agents' lead.

The new murder scene was back at the park, it seemed, and there were patrol cars parked all over the vicinity, their red and blue lights casting odd shadows against nearby trees and landscaping. Uniformed officers were everywhere, and wooden sawhorses had been set up to barricade the footpaths and roads that led toward the crime scene, each one manned by a pair of officers who were checking identification and protecting the scene from curious bystanders.

A large white van labelled with large, black letters reading 'Coroner' was parked nearby and two attendants were waiting with a stretcher and a body bag to collect the newest victim for transport to the morgue once they were given the all clear to approach. Thanks to the crime novels he'd read earlier that night, Edward was able to recognize a great deal of what was going on, in a vague, detached way. Under other circumstances, he would have been asking dozens of questions, trying to figure out what everyone was doing and how it related to investigative work in this world.

"So, those FBI agents were here last year during those fake terrorist attacks?" one officer was saying as JJ showed her badge to two of the officers stationed at the beginning of the footpath before waving him and Mustang past the barricade.

"Yeah, it's the same team. They've been here a couple of times helping to catch all these serial killers that keep popping up. Personally, I wouldn't want to do what they do – crawling around inside the minds of those psychos, trying to think how they think?" a second officer shuddered as he replied, before Ed and Mustang were out of hearing range.

 _Terrorist attacks?_ Edward wondered. _What exactly is a terrorist attack?_ He filed that away as another question to ask Dr. Reid when they got back to the station later.

"What's a kid like that doing here?" he heard from another officer they passed. Ed resisted the urge to growl at the officer. "He can't possibly be a Fed, and he's definitely not NYPD, so what's going on?"

"Maybe he's a witness to this one?"

"Damn, I hope not. No kid should have to witness something like that."

The footpath was lined with streetlamps that cast golden pools of light at regular intervals, while the pathway wove its way between clusters of pine trees, carefully sculpted flowerbeds and neat hedgerows. Edward was beginning to get an uneasy feeling. The setting was too similar to the large park in Central where Hughes had been killed, and considering his nightmare earlier, the coincidences just felt too convenient.

The rest of the BAU, minus Garcia, were waiting near the second SUV and one of the barricades. Ed surmised that she was back at the police station working with her computers and the cameras she'd been called in to monitor. Ed's step faltered as he caught sight of the other agents' faces. He didn't know them very well, but he was certain that something had happened to disturb the agents. They didn't seem like the type to get queasy at a simple murder scene like what they'd been facing with Harding already. Granted, seeing a body that had been boiled alive from the inside wasn't _pleasant_ , but Edward had seen other, far worse things caused by alchemy.

 _Maybe he changed his method to something more gruesome?_ Edward wondered.

Hotch nodded at them and led the way further down the path, in what Edward presumed was the actual crime scene. The further they went, the more people they passed – officers and evidence technicians searching the bushes and the grass on the sides of the path primarily. He also noticed that the officers they passed were looking oddly at him and Mustang. It was almost as if they'd seen a ghost. The uneasy feeling he'd been having was turning into an unpleasant knot in his gut. There was only one reason he could think of that would make the officers and the seasoned FBI agents look at them like that. So he stopped in the center of the path, causing the others to stop as well once they realized he was being left behind.

"Fullmetal? What's wrong?" Mustang asked.

Edward ignored him in favour of studying Hotch and Rossi, since they were the two senior agents and clear leaders of the team. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them pointedly, in the same way he did whenever he was challenging Mustang over an assignment. "Which one of our reflections did Harding kill?" The way he asked left absolutely no room for them to lie or evade the question.

The agents all glanced each other, their masks wavering like the expressions of children who'd been caught in a lie.

Mustang moved to stand just behind him, silently supporting him, but not saying anything. Ed assumed that he'd also realized what the shocked expressions meant.

"Ed-" Prentiss began, her voice adopting the tone she would use when telling someone about a loved one's death, but Ed interrupted her.

"Which one?" His voice was even more demanding this time, his expression not flickering a hair and leaving no room for argument. Silence followed his demand.

He was about to ask for a third time when Hotch finally chose to answer him.

"You, Edward. You were killed."

 **A/N - BOOM! Eighth chapter revised for you lovely people! Please let me know what you think to PhoenixQueen's lovely work!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine:**

" _You, Edward. You were killed."_

Edward wasn't sure who was more shocked at Hotch's pronouncement, him or Mustang. He also couldn't figure out exactly what emotions he was or should be feeling at that moment. His reflection in this world had been killed. In a way, Harding had killed _him_. After all, that was the prick's M.O – go after the reflections of the Amestrian alchemists in some sort of twisted plot to get retribution for insults and slights that the victims knew nothing about.

In all truth, Edward wasn't surprised that Harding had managed to find his reflection here. He was starting to believe that this New York City was this dimension's reflection of Central City. What did surprise him was the timing of his 'death'. There was absolutely no way Harding just _happened_ across his reflection so soon after he and Mustang arrived, especially with Harding being aware of that fact. This had to be Harding's not-so-subtle way of calling the two of them out. But why right now? If Edward's suspicion was correct, Harding had specifically gone out looking for the reflections of either him or Mustang, and he'd obviously found Ed's reflection first.

From a tactical standpoint, though, Harding's move didn't make any sense. The smartest move after attacking them their first night here would have been to lay low. Ed and Mustang were both high-ranking State Alchemists, and Harding knew that. If he knew anything about the two of them, he would also have known that both of them had plenty of experience as combat alchemists and in helping to detain rogue alchemists and other criminals for prosecution. Deliberately drawing attention to himself and calling Ed and Mustang out like this wasn't a smart play; what he should have done was lay low and let his trail go cold, or if that wasn't a possibility, try to get out of the city and put as much distance between himself and his pursuers as he could.

 _Maybe Harding thought that if we saw ourselves dead, it would rattle us, perhaps throw us off our game?_ Ed mused. _If so, it just proves that he's as stupid as I thought he was. Mustang survived the Ishvalan War, and both of us fought on the front lines on the Promised Day._

He was so deep in thought that he never heard Mustang or the agents speaking to him. A touch on his flesh shoulder jerked him out of his thoughts. His head came up alertly, as ingrained habit caused him to start to bring his hands together in preparation to transmute his arm, but recognition of the touch a moment later allowed him to drop his hands back down to his sides. Mustang was looking down at him with something like worry on his face, his hand on Ed's shoulder, squeezing with just enough pressure to comfort and let Edward know he was there.

"Huh? What happened?" Edward wasn't completely surprised he had spaced out. Al was always scolding him for doing so, especially when they were in the middle of important events or if he was meeting with Mustang about a new mission and didn't want to listen to the briefing. "Was someone saying something to me?"

Mustang let out a slow breath that wasn't _quite_ a sigh of relief, but which also held a hint of annoyance. He wasn't quite sure which emotion was dominant in him at the moment. He knew Edward well enough at this point to be familiar with his mannerisms when presented with new or interesting information. The kid's brain was usually active and racing as he tried to weigh every potential factor and outcome of what he was being told. But there was also a time and place for such distractions – it was one of the longest running battles between him and Ed, and one that wasn't likely to end any time soon.

The agents all looked a little concerned with Ed's reaction to finding out that Harding had targeted him via this world's version of him. They'd taken his silence as shock instead of him being his usual self, which wasn't surprising as they barely knew him. They couldn't be expected to know Ed's habits after knowing him for only a single full day.

"Was my reflection killed the same way as the others?" Edward asked suddenly, startling the agents out of their thoughts.

The agents glanced at each other, as if uncertain what to say. Morgan and JJ weren't likely to know all the details yet, since they had been at the hotel with the two alchemists, so Edward focused his attention on the other four, arms crossed over his chest and gaze intense and unblinking.

"Edward –" Reid started to say, but Edward sighed and took a step further down the footpath they had been following.

"Guys, I _will_ go look for myself if none of you answer my question. You all seem to want to treat me like a kid just because of my age, but this won't be the first dead body or even the first murder scene that I've seen before. It's up to you if you want me to walk up and see myself dead without being prepared beforehand."

Ed really didn't want to follow through with that threat. He hadn't been lying – he'd seen plenty of dead bodies since he'd joined the military and he could handle it. He hated it, but he was used to it by now. However, the thought of seeing himself dead skeeved him out something fierce, especially if he walked up on "his" body without being prepared for what he was about to see. He shuddered inwardly, but didn't allow any trace of his inner feelings to show on his expression or in his body language. If he wanted the agents to give him what he wanted, he couldn't present himself as a scared little kid.

Thankfully, it looked like the agents wanted to avoid Ed's possible reaction if he saw himself without being prepared for what he was going to see, although they likely had their own reasons for it.

Hotch finally answered again, unable to outlast that intense golden stare. "No, he wasn't. His body was also staged, which is also a change in the M.O." He hesitated, but then continued. "He's not an identical match for you, Edward. His hair's not quite the same color blond as yours, and his eyes are more of an amber brown than your golden ones. I suspect that's because no one in this dimension has eyes that are the same shade as yours. But his age and his facial structure and general height and weight are identical to you."

So that was at least one additional confirmation that this dimension was truly different from the one Ed and Mustang had come from. After learning about Hohenheim's heritage and background, Ed was well aware that he and Alphonse were the only two living Xerxians – and even they were only half-Xerxian. Golden eyes like his were a genetic trait of the people of Xerxes, just as red eyes were a genetic trait of those from Ishval.

He shook his head, dismissing his wandering thoughts and refocusing on Hotchner. "How was he killed and staged?"

* * *

Edward's question snapped Mustang out of his own thoughts and musings. He could tell where Ed was going with his questions. If this murder was different from the previous ones, then there had to be a reason. And since the only difference between this murder and the previous ones was the fact that he and Edward were now in this dimension, the only reason for Harding to kill this victim in a different way was to send a message to the two alchemists.

"He was shot through the heart and dragged into an old phone booth."

Mustang swore in that instant that he could feel the blood draining from his face. It couldn't be…

 _Maes…_

His investigation into Hughes' death hadn't exactly been a secret among the military members who had been stationed at Central or East City, nor was the fact that he and Hughes had been best friends since their days at the academy. Harding had been stationed in East City up until Grumman had brought his forces to Central after the Promised Day to help with the clean-up and rebuilding, so he would've at least gained a small inkling of how close Mustang and Hughes had been just from all of the gossip back in East City. That would have been the only way Harding could've known considering no one would have voluntarily talked to him about it, given the mutual animosity that everyone seemed to have where Harding was concerned. Mustang was honestly not aware of a single person in East City or Central who claimed to be Harding's friend, and the other alchemist's military record didn't list any living family.

Perhaps that fact was a partial explanation as to why Harding had decided to start killing here, but it didn't explain why he would so clearly and deliberately issued a declaration of war between himself and Mustang and Ed. The Boiling Alchemist was clearly out of his mind – and as far as Mustang was concerned, this was all the evidence he needed to be certain that Harding was likely to fight to the death once they caught up to him. If, against all odds, they were able to catch Harding and haul his ass back to Central in one piece, Mustang would take great pleasure in making sure that Harding was forever walled away in a dark, isolated prison cell for the rest of his life.

* * *

Edward felt like someone had dumped a pail of ice water on him, and for a second thought that he might be sick all over Hotch's shoes. Mustang had blanched white and looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Given what he was currently feeling, Edward was ninety-eight percent certain that he probably looked exactly like the Colonel in that moment. Despite the fact that he was currently living part-time with Gracia and Elysia when he wasn't tending to Al in the hospital, he _still_ felt guilty about Hughes' murder.

" _It's your fault I'm dead!"_

" _You killed daddy!"_

" _You forced us to bury my husband!"_

" _You murdered my best friend!"_

Ed wasn't an idiot. His decision to investigate the fifth laboratory against Major Armstrong's orders had been the trigger that had led to Hughes' death. Hughes might have been in charge of the Investigations department in Central, but he hadn't had any involvement in the plans of the homunculi and their Father other than as a potential soul to be used on the Promised Day. Sure Hughes had been a great fighter and a stubborn jerk, but he could never have been a match for any of the homunculi.

He felt his shock slowly turn into anger. There were very few things in his life that were off limits to being used like this. Hughes' death, his and Al's failed transmutation, and their relationship with their bastard of a father topped a very short list. As far as he was concerned, Harding had just given Edward permission to give him a beat down even Pride and Wrath would have been scared of.

"Does that mean something to you?" JJ's soft voice broke through the anger and sorrow that surrounded the alchemists. Ed felt his seething hatred for Harding dull down to the sort of simmering anger and hatred he had felt for Hohenheim for so many years until he was able to speak clearly. It wouldn't be fair to take his anger out on the BAU agents. They didn't understand the background or situation and why it was affecting him and Mustang so much. But once he'd explained this and taken a look at the scene for himself, Edward fully intended to locate and finish this mission once and for all. He was sure that Mustang would be on board with him.

He took a deep breath. "A couple of years ago, there was another soldier in our military named Maes Hughes. He was shot through the heart in a phone booth." He paused to gather his composure. "Hughes was Mustang's best friend, and he was my friend too. Most of the time he actually acted more like an annoying big brother or uncle towards my younger brother and me. He had a wife and a daughter who had only just turned three when he was killed."

Edward closed his eyes, not wanting to look at Mustang when he explained the next part. "He was killed because of me. He'd found out vital information related to the coup we recently repelled that he wasn't supposed to know and he tried to pass it on to Mustang so that we could better prepare ourselves. But there were a few members of the enemy force who had infiltrated our military and somehow they found out that Maes was researching that information, so they killed him in order to silence him – and to send a message to me to stop investigating their plans."

"Fullmetal –" Mustang started, but Edward ignored him and plowed forward, determined to get it out.

"There weren't that many people in the military – at least not in Central Command or East City – who weren't aware of the fact that Mustang and Hughes were best friends, or that Hughes treated Al and I like we were part of his family. Just from listening to gossip among the other soldiers, Harding would have known about how his murder affected us."

"Edward." Mustang's use of his first name in front of other people was enough to catch Ed's attention and he glanced over at Mustang, still feeling a little sick with guilt – especially after his earlier nightmare. "You know Maes' death wasn't your fault. You didn't kill him. No one blames you for it – not me, not Gracia, and not Elysia. It was Envy's fault, and you _know_ that." Mustang still looked as if he was going to be sick too, but he wasn't about to listen to Edward continue to beat himself up over something he had no control over. Maes' death still affected him to this day, but never once did he blame Edward or Alphonse for it, and he was determined to keep reminding the younger alchemist of that fact until the blond finally believed him.

"I may not have killed him, but he _was_ killed because of me, and you know it," Edward snapped back, but his voice lacked the bite it usually held when they verbally sparred. Mustang could say what he liked, but Edward knew the truth of the matter.

Before Mustang could continue arguing, Edward turned his attention back to the agents. "I want to see the scene." His tone left no room for argument, but he didn't give them a chance to argue as he strode forward down the path. There was always the chance that there was another clue that the agents and their officers wouldn't realize was important since it related to alchemy – the same way the pattern on the map was only obvious to another alchemist or the fact that all of Harding's victims were reflections of Amestrians.

It took several seconds before he heard the agents and Mustang following after him. To their credit, it didn't take them long to catch up to him, and Hotch and Rossi passed him, leading the way to the scene. Reid fell into step beside him, as if he was trying to offer support, but Edward wasn't interested in having anyone who didn't understand the significance of Hughes' murder trying to comfort him. He didn't want platitudes. He wanted to see the scene and then track the bastard down and end this once and for all.

His step faltered slightly once they reached the crime scene. It was an old phone booth alright – and just five paces away from the wall of the booth a single streetlight cast golden light down over the entire scene. The booth door was open, and Edward could see a pair of legs sprawled half-in, and half-out of the booth, with blood pooling along the left hand side of the body.

"Damn him," Mustang swore under his breath.

 _Hughes…_

Edward shook his head hard and walked over to stand in front of the booth, looking down at his own reflection. It was eerie, and yet he could see the differences that Agent Hotchner had mentioned immediately. His reflection – although their faces were the same, had lighter blond hair than Ed himself did, and the eyes, which were wide open and staring, were amber brown instead of molten gold.

It was strange to see…well, himself, almost, with all his limbs intact. The right hand was lying palm up on the ground, fingers slightly curled in towards the palm. The kid was wearing black pants, a black shirt and a red hooded sweatshirt which was stained with blood and marred by a round bullet hole and a quantity of unburned gunpowder right over the teen's heart.

Edward closed his eyes for a moment, struggling to maintain his composure. He'd told the agents that he could handle this, and he could. He wasn't going to give them any reason to doubt his word or to think that Harding was getting under his skin. But seeing his reflection dead…it was definitely creepy.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Rossi asked. "This can't be easy."

"I'm fine," Edward said tersely, opening his eyes again. "This doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" Reid asked.

"Harding choosing to go after my reflection. All he's doing is drawing attention to himself. If he'd just laid low, he might have had a chance to sneak out of the city before Mustang and I could get to him. He has to know that there's no way he can beat the two of us in a fight – not with our reputations."

"Didn't you say that state alchemists were the best of the best though?" Prentiss asked.

Edward nodded. "Yes, but even among state alchemists, there are some who are more combat and field work oriented, while others are solely research alchemists. Harding is a field work alchemist, but Mustang and I are too. As good as Harding is, his alchemy is by nature a close-range type, while Mustang is long range and I can operate efficiently at any range. Mustang alone would have the advantage over Harding in a fight because he could hit Harding before Harding could close on him, unless Harding managed, against all odds, to ambush him. With the two of us together, Harding really doesn't stand a chance."

"So why make this move?" Mustang wondered. "He has to know that if we weren't already committed to finding him and hauling him back to Amestris that this would make us even more determined to catch him."

Edward shook his head. "I don't know. He shouldn't have had any reason to call me out in this fashion anyway. I've never even met the man, and I don't give a rat's ass about him or his personal insecurities. The fact that he went far enough to use Hughes' death against us in this way is just more evidence of how unhinged he is."

"We see that a lot, unfortunately," JJ said. "There are just too many people out there who don't know how to deal with their problems in a healthy way, so they take it out on the people around them."

"That's why our team exists," Rossi agreed. "We get them off the streets and try to protect the innocent people from becoming victims."

"There's another problem," Reid said. "This part of the park isn't anywhere on that circle that you found in the pattern of his kills, Edward. It's quite some distance outside the circle in fact."

"Even more proof that Harding is just calling us out for a fight," Edward said. "I just don't understand his reasoning. It's like he's asking for a beating, but he must have some reason to think he can beat us, however unlikely that is." He brooded over his reflection's body for another moment. "Damn him. That does it." He looked over at the agents. "Which direction was Harding heading when he fled, and how long ago did he leave?"

"He was seen running that way, towards the east side of the park, about an hour ago now," Prentiss said, pointing to her left. "There are some empty buildings that would be a good place to lose pursuers and stay out of sight of the police patrols until it's safe to move back to wherever he's been hiding from us."

Edward nodded and, after one final glance at his reflection's body, headed in the direction that she had indicated, his stride purposeful and firm.

"Hey, where are you going?" "Fullmetal, where are you going now?" Morgan and Mustang asked the question at the same time.

Edward turned around to stare them all down. Lesser men and women would've flinched at the anger in his eyes, which looked like pools of molten gold and blazed with the heat of his fury. "I'm done playing games with this bastard. It's bad enough that he targeted innocent victims who know nothing about him or the issues that he's had with their reflections, but this time he went too far and he targeted a kid. If he'd come after me directly, fine. I would have kicked his ass, dragged him back to Central, and left him there to rot in a dark cell for the rest of his life. But now? He's going to beg for his death before I'm done with him."

Mustang simply followed Edward, knowing all too well that there was no point in trying to stop his subordinate. All he could do at this point was follow Edward and perhaps be prepared to encourage him to practice some restraint once he caught up to Harding – he had no doubt that Edward _would_ find Harding.

"What are you going to do?" Hotch asked. "We can't have you killing him, Edward."

"I'm not going to kill him, but he's going to wish he was dead. I'm going to use my searching array to locate him. I have a feeling that he'll be hiding nearby – he'll want to see our reactions to my reflection's murder. Sick prick. So I shouldn't be stretching my limits too much. Once I've located the bastard, Mustang and I are going to take him down and end this mission."

With that, Ed continued his trek towards the east side of the park and the buildings that Prentiss had indicated. The agents and Mustang followed close behind him until they reached the wall that separated the park from the street. This late at night, there wouldn't be that many observers around to witness Edward's alchemy, so he felt safe enough doing it here. "Is this where he was seen last?"

Prentiss consulted her notes and confirmed that it was. Edward brought his hands close together and started preparing himself to perform the array. The small-scale test had shown just how much energy it would take to perform his tracking array, but the large scale one would be even more draining. It would be important that he find Harding quickly, or else he would risk collapsing in exhaustion once he ended the transmutation.

"Are you sure you can do this? You had trouble seeing in all directions during the small scale test," Mustang reminded him.

Edward didn't bother to open his eyes. "Of course I'm sure, Mustang. I redesigned the array earlier when I woke up so I should be able to make the wave go in every direction instead of just the one. Now zip it so I can do this."

* * *

Mustang fell silent and shook his head when it looked like the agents wanted to ask questions about what Edward was doing. Edward was completely still for a few more seconds before he clapped his hands sharply and then extended his arms out in front of him. For Mustang and Prentiss, this was a new experience. Edward's eyes suddenly snapped open and shone blue with the alchemic energy from the internal array he activated.

The energy released by the transmutation made his clothes and braid dance like he was caught in a windstorm but stopped as soon as Edward forced the energy outwards in a circle around him. He immediately sensed Mustang and the agents, but ignored their energy and made the wave expand further and further. He couldn't sense very many people in the immediate vicinity, and the ones he did seemed to mostly be drunks and homeless people. The biggest group he could sense were the police offices and crime scene technicians over by the phone booth.

He was already beginning to feel the effects of this transmutation, but he continued to expand the wave, stretching it further and further, going way past his test run. He would need to activate his energy absorbing array as soon as he ended the transmutation or he risked overextending himself and causing a rebound. Further…further…he had to keep going. He _had_ to find Harding.

 _Wait, what was that?_

He refocused his attention on the new color he had just seen. Black, this time instead of white or red. He narrowed his focus further and concentrated solely on that black dot and its surroundings. But the color was moving. _Damn! I don't know the area well enough to know where the bastard is going._ He focused on the area surrounding the black energy, trying to discern any unique feature or landmark that could be easily recognized and described to the agents once this was done. He needed to hurry. He could feel himself running out of alchemic energy. If he kept this up, he'd collapse. _There!_

Satisfied that he'd found a good landmark he shut his eyes and stopped the transmutation. The effect was immediate. His center of gravity shifted and he felt his balance give way. He dropped like a stone, but didn't feel the impact of his face against the pavement like he'd expected to. Instead, he felt himself caught by a strong pair of arms, one around his waist and the other one lifting his automail arm and draping it around a set of shoulders.

He forced open eyes that felt weighted down by stones and glanced to the side, confirming that the one who had caught him was Mustang. Despite all his annoying mannerisms, the Colonel was quick when he wanted to be, Ed had to give him that.

He didn't even bother with trying to calm his breathing like he had after the test run. He was far past the point of exhaustion and couldn't even muster up the energy to breathe hard. Just the thought of having to lift his arm and push his sleeves back to activate the absorption array made him want to cry, but he needed to gain the energy back. If he hadn't been as tired as he was, he might've felt a hint of embarrassment at having to lean against Mustang, but as long as the man was willing to be a support, he wasn't going to reject the aid.

Forcing himself to take a little more of his own weight so that he didn't over balance, and ignoring Mustang's protests, he removed his right arm from around Mustang's neck, he wearily pushed back his left sleeve and activated the array he'd drawn there earlier. He could feel the transmutation working immediately, and given how quickly he could feel himself absorbing the energy, he figured that by the end of the transmutation, he'd feel only a little worse than he had after the small scale test run yesterday.

As soon as he'd activated the array, Mustang had reclaimed possession of his automail arm and draped it back around his own shoulders and retaken Ed's weight. The agents were all standing around unsure of what they could do to help. Mustang seemed able to support Edward and they all knew that Edward would tell them anything he'd learned as soon as he could, so for the moment they were content to wait for the younger alchemist to recover.

"How are you feeling, Fullmetal?"

Edward was too tired to even process a reaction to the concern he could hear in Mustang's voice. "Take a wild guess, bastard," he snapped, but without any real heat to his voice. He couldn't even muster up the energy for a display of temper at the stupid question, but apparently his words were enough to reassure his commander.

"Right, dumb question. Did you locate Harding at least?" Mustang was glad the blond was okay, even if Edward looked like he could collapse any second.

"Yeah, I did. Well, sort of. He was on the move when I located him. You should send people out that way," Edward raised his left hand wearily and pointed to the right, towards the closest entrance to the park from their current location, "about three or four blocks. Keep an eye out for a shop on the corner of the block that has a statue of a person holding a bowl or something in front of it. He was heading straight from that direction when I deactivated the array. If you can, find out where he's holed up, if possible, but don't engage him."

"Why not?" Morgan asked. "If we get a chance to arrest him, we should take it before he kills again."

"It'd be better to attack him at night," Edward indicated the hint of daylight that was just beginning to appear in the distance. "Mustang and I are very good at sneaking around places at night. Plus, I'm certain now that you guys won't be able to take him down without us, and right now I'm way too fucking tired to even think about fighting."

Morgan looked insulted that Edward thought they couldn't handle one man on their own, alchemist or not. "What makes you think we can't take him down without you? I know he's an alchemist and a killer, but he'd be hard pressed to dodge bullets, right?"

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you. Bullets are very effective against alchemists, but something about this whole situation has been nagging at me since Truth sent us here and I think I finally figured out the answer. Truth never mentioned letting Harding pass through to this dimension, which means he didn't pass through Truth's Gate with his permission. He had to have hijacked the Gate using alchemy, and there isn't an alchemist, alive or dead, who is knowledgeable or powerful enough to do that without Truth finding out. Not even I could pull off that trick. That means that Harding had to have bypassed the laws of alchemy somehow."

He both felt and heard Mustang's shocked gasp and knew that the other alchemist had figured it out for himself, but the agents wouldn't know what he was talking about.

"Harding is in possession of a Philosopher's Stone."

 **A/N - Sorry for taking so long to give you this revised chapter! I thought I'd already done so only to update chapter 10 and find out I hadn't! Anyway, here's chapter 9 and 10 will be up in a few moments. Let me know what y'all think!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

As Edward had expected, none of the agents had a clue what he was talking about. He did, however, feel Mustang stiffen in surprise while still supporting most of Ed's weight. With each moment that passed, he was becoming more and more grateful for the fact that Mustang was there, because _fuck_ , he was beyond exhausted. He was, in fact, so exhausted that in this moment he was more useless than Mustang in the rain. If he had to do any alchemy at all before he'd gotten some sleep, he literally wouldn't have been able to. Even the thought of having to _move_ was enough to make him want to weep. Of course, he would never actually _admit_ how grateful he was for the support to Mustang's face – it would be too much out of character.

"Are you serious? Are you certain?" Mustang's voice was tight with tension and perhaps even a little bit of fear, to the point that the questions came out in a barely audible whisper. Ed could understand why Mustang's voice sounded that way, considering their history with the Philosopher's Stone. That small red stone had caused so much chaos and heartbreak in Amestris, and to possibly have to confront it here again…it wasn't something that Ed was looking forward to.

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Morgan asked. "What's a Philosopher's Stone?"

The agents looked completely confused by the reference, and Ed knew why. They knew nothing about alchemy other than the tiny fragments that he'd already explained and demonstrated for them. If they only knew…he could only imagine that it would be like telling them that Harding had an atomic bomb at his disposal (thank Truth that someone had left that history textbook behind). He couldn't be one hundred percent certain that Harding had a Philosopher's Stone, since he hadn't sensed anything unusual about his alchemic energy while his tracking array had been active. However, he also hadn't been looking for a Stone and had no way of knowing if a Stone would take on the same alchemic energy signature as its wielder.

He looked at Mustang out of the corner of his eye. "I am. It's the only thing that makes sense and answers all the questions about this whole situation. I can only think of two ways for Harding to dimension hop: Truth, or the Stone. Since Truth didn't admit to sending Harding here, I can only assume that Harding somehow cam into possession of a Stone. There _is_ the possibility that Harding _did_ go through the Gate and Truth is just being a dick by not telling us, but I think we should assume the worst."

He shifted his weight from his flesh leg to his automail one, since his metal leg wouldn't tire and he needed to get off his feet as soon as he could. "I can't be completely certain either way, not without seeing the Stone for myself, but I'm going with the worst case scenario," he added, a little apologetically. He had had his fill of Stones and those who wielded them. Although, if he was asked and was being truthful, Greed was the only one of the Homunculi whose death Ed almost regretted. Months of travelling with him while he'd been in control of Ling's body had softened his attitude. He'd been glad when Ling had regained control of his own body, but he also couldn't deny that Greed's abilities had proved vital to defeating Father and saving the country on the Promised Day.

"I'm assuming that this Philosopher's Stone is a bad thing?" Hotch asked, sounding a little defeated. He'd started to realize that good news rarely occurred when the alchemists were involved.

Edward and Mustang exchanged glances. "A bad thing" was probably the understatement of the century where the Stone was concerned. Mustang looked at Ed, but immediately saw that the younger alchemist was struggling just to hang onto consciousness at this point, so he took charge of the conversation.

"Yes. The Stone is a very bad thing. The fact that Harding might be in possession of one complicates things immensely, and if he _does_ have one, it will put Fullmetal and I at a huge disadvantage. We'll be happy to explain it to you in more detail, but not here. It's far too sensitive a topic. Also, if we keep standing around, Fullmetal's going to pass out."

Edward would have protested his commander's diagnosis, but in this case Mustang wasn't wrong. His absorbing array had run its course, and while he felt a lot better than he had ten minutes ago, he still felt worse than he had after the smaller scale test from the day before. He was certain that if Mustang wasn't supporting his weight, he would have curled up right where he was and given exactly zero fucks.

The fact that Edward didn't argue drove Mustang's point home for the agents and only confirmed Mustang's concerns. If _Ed_ wasn't arguing with him – which might be a first in the five years that they'd known each other – then the younger alchemist was worse off than they thought.

"Alright, we'll head back to the station for now. We need to organize some officers to do a canvass of the area that Edward identified, and he's welcome to sleep on the couch in the conference room until someone turns up Harding's exact location and he's recovered," Hotch decided, before turning and leading the way back to the cars.

Mustang tightened his grip around Edward's waist to support him and helped the blond alchemist. He could see Dr. Reid hovering nearby, as if he wanted to volunteer to help, but was uncertain if Edward would accept the assistance. He also didn't fail to notice how Rossi and Prentiss automatically fell into step behind them, watching their six and protecting their backs should Harding be opportunistic enough to attack them. The chances of that happening were slim, considering that Edward had located and tracked the man four blocks away, but Mustang still appreciated the gesture. It was exactly what he would have expected from his team back home.

* * *

Edward simple appreciated the fact that he'd be able to lie down and recuperate soon. _And Al says I never get enough sleep._ It seemed as if sleeping was the _only_ thing he'd been doing since he'd arrived in this dimension. Every step they took until they reached the cars cost him precious energy and made him want to cry; since it wasn't energy he could afford to spend while he was this exhausted.

He honestly didn't remember the drive to the station, and even the bright lights of the city weren't enough to attract his attention and keep him engaged. He didn't notice that Mustang kept his arm around him for the whole trip, and if any of the agents or Mustang said anything to him, it didn't register in his conscious mind in the slightest. He _did_ notice that Mustang and Agent Jareau both helped him into the conference room and onto the couch, and he thought he noticed the brightly colored clothing of Garcia as she entered the room, but he was too tired to respond to her if she actually asked him anything.

As soon as he felt the cushions beneath him, he immediately lay down and curled up tightly on his left side, his red coat pulled tightly to his body, since the loss of so much of his energy had drained him and left him feeling a little chilled. Agent Jareau draped a blanket over him a few seconds later and he pulled it tightly around himself as well, a little greedily. Mustang knelt down on the floor beside the couch so that they were at eye level and he struggled to stay awake long enough to hear what Mustang wanted to say.

"Get some sleep, shrimp. We'll need your genius to beat Harding and the Stone soon." Mustang's usual smug expression seemed forced this time, and the worry for his youngest subordinate was all too evident in his dark eyes.

"I always knew you were a big softie," Edward smirked weakly. "Think I might have to pass that around Central Command when we get back, especially if you keep up with the short jokes." Mustang's chuckle in response and the feel of the older man ruffling his hair affectionately was the last thing that Ed was aware of before he gave into the exhaustion and his world went black.

* * *

The whole room was quiet, with the only exception behind the sound of Edward's heavy breathing as he drifted off into an utterly exhausted slumber. Mustang knew the agents were being very patient and were waiting for him to provide the explanation that he'd promised them, but he wanted to wait a few more minutes. He wanted to be sure that Edward was definitely asleep before he began. Edward's breathing finally evened out and Mustang had never felt more relieved.

In addition to equivalent exchange, one of the first core lessons an alchemy student learned when he began actually performing transmutations was balancing their internal energy so as to not exhaust themselves – especially those who wanted to serve the military in a combat capacity. Although it had never been proven, Mustang suspected that those who drained themselves too much while using alchemy were at risk for other health complications, exhaustion being the least of the potential complications, along with the potential for chronic migraines, ulcers, and other stress-related issues. Given that Edward had already been tired from the past three months of constantly caring for his brother, Mustang didn't want to think about the complications that could happen to Ed if he continually exhausted himself without taking the time to get proper rest.

Running a hand over his face, and breathing out a sigh of relief, Mustang rose from where he was kneeling next to the couch and moved over to the end of the couch by Edward's feet. Cautiously, not wanting to accidentally wake his subordinate, he took a seat and faced the agents. "Alright, what do you want to know?" he asked quietly. Alphonse had told him once that Edward was a heavy sleeper, but given how desperately the teen needed sleep at the moment, he didn't want to take the chance that their voices would rouse him.

No one spoke for a few minutes, and Mustang glanced at Edward again while he waited for them to gather their thoughts. The teen's chest was rising and falling evenly, and his face was slack in unconsciousness.

"Is Edward going to be alright?" Garcia asked.

Mustang nodded. "He will. He needs sleep and food and time to recuperate, but Fullmetal is one of the strongest alchemists that Amestris has ever had. Overreaching himself in the use of one array won't kill him."

"Colonel, I think we'd all like to know what a Philosopher's Stone is, to start with," Hotch finally said, his tone equally quiet to avoid waking Edward.

Mustang nodded. It was the logical question, considering the theory that Edward had proposed. "Okay. This might take a little bit of explaining, so please bear with me." He barely noted the agents' nods as he gathered his thoughts. "The Philosopher's Stone is a blood red stone created from alchemy. For as long as we've been practicing alchemy in Amestris, the Stone was believed to be the ultimate goal for an alchemist to strive for, since it enables its wielder to be able to bypass the laws of alchemy that Edward told you about the other day. The only real limit to what an alchemist can do if he or she has possession of the Stone is dependent on the alchemist's imagination and the life of the Stone itself. There have been Stones which have lasted for centuries and others that lasted for barely two years, as I understand it. The reason that Fullmetal and I are at a disadvantage if we go up against Harding now is because the two of us are still bound by the laws of alchemy. Harding is not."

Mustang paused there, as there were certain things he'd only answer if the agents asked directly. Otherwise he was keeping them between himself and Edward. It wasn't that he thought the agents could really _do_ anything with the information, but there wasn't any point in stirring up potential trouble between themselves and the agents considering that they still didn't have a complete level of trust.

"So if we were to attempt to arrest Harding and he _does_ have one of these Stones…" Morgan said slowly.

"He would more than likely destroy you with one move," Mustang said bluntly. "He wouldn't even have to get close to you to use his boiling alchemy the way we thought he would have to before Fullmetal realized that he could be in possession of a Stone."

"So why don't you and Edward create Stones of your own before you face off with Harding and even the playing field?" Prentiss asked.

Mustang sighed. Of course Edward's bad luck would transfer to him while the kid was dead to the world. Prentiss had asked and now he would have to answer. There was no point in sugarcoating the truth now. "Because in order to make even a single Stone with any degree of power, Edward and I would have to sacrifice thousands of people."

Utter silence fell in the room as the agents absorbed the impact of that statement. Mustang wasn't at all surprised, considering how he'd felt the first time Edward and Alphonse had revealed the truth to him after they'd decoded Marcoh's notes.

"Thousands of people?" JJ asked, horrified. It was obvious that the rest of the BAU agents equally as appalled as the blonde agent, judging by the expressions on their faces.

"Yes. The Stone uses human souls to bypass the laws of alchemy. _Nothing_ is worth a human soul – it's the most precious resource in the world, and that's why bringing the dead back is the greatest taboo that exists in alchemy. However, if you were to exchange a human soul in order to create something, it _would_ be within the rules of equivalent exchange," Mustang explained. "As long as you give equal or more of what you want to exchange, the rule applies. It's only when you attempt to exchange something worth less than what you want to gain that arrays will rebound on you. With the Stone, you're always exchanging more than what you want in return, so you can do anything – at least as long as the Stone has souls to give in exchange. Once the souls used to create the Stone are exhausted, the Stone itself will rebound if further transmutations are attempted."

This was definitely more Ed's forte, but he hoped he'd explained it simply enough. He really wasn't sure how to dumb it down any further. He waited quietly while the agents digested the information, listening to Ed breathing, waiting for any other questions the agents might still have.

"What was the Promised Day?"

Mustang blinked in surprise. Of all the questions that he had thought they might have, that was not one of them. How had they even heard that term, or knew how it related to the two alchemists? "What?"

"You mentioned it when you and Edward identified that our victims were reflections of people from your world," Reid said. "I believe your exact words were '…then the Promised Day arrived and we needed all hands on deck dealing with the aftermath.'"

"So what was the Promised Day?" Hotch repeated the question.

Mustang's practiced, professional mask fell into place immediately, but his thoughts were racing. While the true knowledge of Father and the homunculi's plans was mostly restricted to those who had been involved in helping to combat it, most of Amestris knew that _something_ horrible had happened on that day and that it had involved alchemy. But the exact details weren't discussed with those who weren't already in the know, considering the bad light it painted the military in.

"Colonel, while we cannot deny the help that you and Major Elric – Edward – have given us on this case, you have to admit that there is still a lot that we don't know about the two of you or where you come from. It makes it difficult for us to know how much we should be able to trust you."

"Everything about your body language at this moment tells us that there is something that you're still hiding," Rossi added. "We've taken your word at face value up to this point, but your word alone is only going to bring you so far."

What the agents said was true, and Mustang knew that if he was in their place, and they were the ones telling him that they had jumped dimensions and came to Amestris, he'd probably be just as suspicious and cautious. He would also be demanding information, anything that he could use to verify their honesty.

"The Promised Day was the day when the entire nation of Amestris – over fifty million people – died and were then brought back to life through alchemy, and all because of one being that sought to obtain the power of God for itself."

If the revelation of what the Philosopher's Stone was had caused silence in the room, this statement dropped like a bombshell in the room and left all of the agents looking ill and disbelieving.

"But…" Emily couldn't finish the statement.

Mustang took a deep breath. "If you really want details, I can give them to you, but it's a horrifying story and doesn't really have any relation to our quest to track down Harding."

The agents looked at each other before they turned back to face Mustang. "I think we need to know, Colonel," Hotch finally said. "We need to understand your world."

Mustang nodded slowly. "The story actually starts six hundred years ago, before Amestris was even founded. Off beyond what are now our eastern borders, there was a powerful civilization known as Xerxes. Our history claims that the entire country was destroyed in one night by an alchemist wielding the Philosopher's Stone, leaving only a single survivor who travelled west to the area that eventually became our capital city of Central. That survivor became known as the Philosopher of the East, and it was said that he brought the science of alchemy to Amestris before sealing the Philosopher's Stone away to prevent it from ever being used in such a destructive way again. Two hundred years later, Amestris was officially founded.

"We started out as a small nation founded on the principles of alchemy, and eventually expanded our borders through military strength until we became the nation that we are today," he continued. "On paper we're a parliamentary republic, but in reality we're a military state under the command of our leader, the Füehrer. Our country is divided into five regional governments, with Central City being the top of the hierarchy and the other four regions answering to the Füehrer and the rest of the High Command in Central."

"So the military has absolute power in your land, and I'm guessing that as a Colonel you hold quite a bit of authority," Rossi theorized.

Mustang nodded. "Not as much as some, but with the fallout from the Promised Day and now all of the rebuilding going on, I've gained more than I had before, especially since I'm posted to Central Command. I'm still not as highly ranked as the Generals, but as far as day-to-day administrative tasks, yes. But there are some among those of us in the military who seek to restore our country to what it is supposed to be, myself and Fullmetal included."

He shook his head. "It was our arrogance that led to the Promised Day, however. We allowed ourselves to become complacent, and that made it easy for our military to become corrupted from the inside, and the one who was behind the whole situation was able to manipulate events for nearly four hundred years without anyone except his allies being aware of the situation."

"What do you mean?" Morgan asked. "There were plans being made _four_ _hundred_ years before this Promised Day would happen?"

Mustang nodded. "The one behind the whole plan was a creature called a homunculus – a life form created solely through alchemy. Until we learned the truth about the Promised Day, it was believed that using alchemy to create life was only theoretical, but also considered to be part of the taboo of human transmutation. What we didn't know was that the one we revered as the Philosopher from the East was actually a homunculus that had been created in Xerxes prior to its destruction. The creature deceived the King of Xerxes by promising to reveal the secret of immortality to him, and the King's desire to obtain that power directly led to the destruction of the entire kingdom. The homunculus used the so-called ritual of immortality to trap the souls of the people of Xerxes and transform them into a Philosopher's Stone. At least a million souls, all trapped and providing him with alchemic power far beyond anything an alchemist is born with."

"That's horrible," Garcia exclaimed. "He wiped out an entire civilization?"

"Yes. But that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to surpass God, but the only way to do that was to somehow find a way to generate an even stronger Philosopher's Stone, and at a specific time – a solar eclipse which occurred three months ago to be precise – he set his plan into motion. For four hundred years he worked behind the scenes to manipulate the leadership of Amestris. He carefully controlled the expansion of our borders until our country formed a circle which would be large enough to contain the population levels he needed to put his plan into effect. He created seven other homunculi out of the Philosopher's Stone and used them to help manipulate our country. They referred to him as their Father and he manipulated our military's High Command with promises of power, glory, and immortality. He even placed one of his children – one of the seven homunculi he created – in the position of ultimate power by making him our Füehrer."

"How do you stop something like that?" Reid wondered. "To have that much power, and to be able to manipulate so many people and events in the way that you're describing - it almost seems unbelievable."

"I wish that were so, Dr. Reid," Mustang said grimly. "If it wasn't for Fullmetal and his brother, we never would have learned the truth until it was far too late. Their determination to research the Philosopher's Stone eventually allowed them to uncover the homunculi's plan, and their courage and alchemic skill was what enabled us to defeat them in the end." He looked down at Edward. "I was the one who recruited Fullmetal when he was twelve years old, and I don't regret my decision in the slightest, but even I couldn't have predicted what an innocent trip to their hometown would lead to a few years later."

He sighed. "The homunculi's plan not only required a country-wide transmutation circle and a large population, it required bloodshed at five specific points along that circle, so over the four hundred years the homunculi created dissidence and chaos that allowed Central to send in military forces to put down the rebellions and create the bloodshed required to complete the transmutation. The final component was five human sacrifices – five alchemists who had performed and survived a very specific transmutation. Fullmetal and his brother were two of the required sacrifices, and their teacher was a third. On the Promised Day, the five sacrifices were gathered by the homunculi and forced to open the Gate of Truth, which allowed Father to acquire the power of god, at the cost of the lives of the citizens of Amestris."

"Fifty million lives, you said, correct?" Hotch asked.

Mustang nodded. "One of the sacrifices was aware of Father's plan and he had spent years leading up to the Promised Day putting a countermeasure in place, and after the sacrifices had played their part, the countermeasure was activated and it returned the souls of the people of Amestris back to them, reducing Father back to a very powerful, but no longer invincible homunculus. The army and the rest of the allies that we had gathered pulled together to fight Father and we eventually defeated him. Actually, it was Fullmetal who ultimately defeated him, but the cost to our country was extremely high. Most of the High Command was either killed or revealed to be corrupt, and we lost our Füehrer – although since he was a homunculi himself, that wasn't exactly a great loss. Ever since then, we've been struggling to rebuild what we had, while also making changes to lead us closer to reclaiming the parliamentary republic we are supposed to have. It will take time to make that full transition, as most of the people of Amestris don't have any idea of what actually happened on that day and our country has been so tied up in the military for so long we can't make an instant switch to a different form of government."

He didn't know how much more he could explain without revealing some information that the agents didn't need to know. They didn't need to know that the five sacrifices had performed human transmutation, or that Mustang himself had been one of the sacrifices, if unwillingly. He sat quietly, just listening to Ed breathing, waiting for any more questions the agents might still have.

"Thank you, Colonel," Rossi finally said. "While that was difficult to hear, it helps us to understand more about the world you come from." The other agents nodded in agreement, although a few of them – JJ and Reid specifically – still seemed to be disturbed by what Mustang had revealed.

"Please, don't speak to Fullmetal about what I've discussed with you," Mustang added. "I understand why you wanted to know, but Fullmetal and his brother were at the center of those events far more than I was, and I know that they still don't have good memories of that time. I've been on the front lines in war and conflict, more than once in my military career, but Fullmetal and his brother were actively being watched and stalked by the homunculi in the final months leading up to the Promised Day, and it caused them a lot of pain and suffering."

The agents all nodded in agreement and began conversing in low tones among themselves. Mustang was inclined to allow them to talk around him, as he was far more concerned for Ed's health at the moment. He was glad that the teen was getting some rest at long last. He knew that the first night that they were here was the first night in a long time that the blond had gotten proper rest. The fact that he had slept so soundly that night had been because Edward had been so utterly exhausted. But any rest he'd gained had been lost after the tracking array test run and nightmare he'd had the previous night, plus the discovery of the death of Edward's reflection and the younger alchemist exhausting himself tracking Harding down.

Hell, today had taken a toll on Mustang, and the sun hadn't even risen yet. He was going to kill Harding for doing what he had done. Killing people using alchemy just because they resembled Amestrian alchemists was horrible enough, but the fact that Harding had decided to call him and Edward out had crossed the line. Harding had made this personal and, Stone or no Stone, Mustang was going to make him regret it. He was certain that Edward felt the same way.

* * *

He was soon distracted from his thoughts when Morgan answered his cell phone. It never failed to fascinate him how this world didn't need landlines to contact people. He wondered if they could take this technology back to Amestris. Maybe he'd ask Dr. Reid to give him a run down on how it all worked. The youngest agent was clearly a genius, like Edward. Although, if he was like Edward, it might be better if he actually explained the technology to Ed directly. Edward would probably be more likely to understand all the technical jargon. Movement from the agents brought him back from his thoughts.

"What's going on?" he asked, glancing quickly at Edward to confirm that the noise hadn't disturbed Ed.

"Garcia is going to go back to the NYPD's cyber unit and work with some of the officers to check the cameras around the park and the area Edward located Harding to see if she can track him back to where he's hiding. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss, and Reid are going to join some of the NYPD officers and canvass the area as well, just in case someone else saw Harding in an area where the cameras don't cover. JJ and I are going to stay here and coordinate with the police as well as assist with any tips that come in. JJ's also our point person when it comes to dealing with the media, so if any information comes in that we feel like the public needs to be made aware of, she'll be able to work with the media to get the information out. We're going to go and brief the locals on our profile, but we'll be back shortly," Hotch explained, pausing at the door.

"Before you leave," Mustang said, not wanting the agents to leave without giving them all the information he could think of that would help, "make sure that you let the officers or any potential witnesses know to report any sightings of bright blue, red, or purple flashes of light, but to stay away from the area. Also, if they see any circles drawn anywhere, make sure they know not to touch them. Tell people they're marks for traps or something, just make sure that civilians and the police officers stay away from them. Once Fullmetal wakes up, if necessary, the two of us can go out and disarm the circles safely."

"No problem, we'll add that to our briefing. JJ and I will be back in a couple of hours. Get some rest, Colonel. We may need your help identifying any legitimate tips that we get after JJ finishes with her next press conference." Hotch left the room, closing the door with a quiet _click_ as he did.

For a few minutes, Mustang sat quietly, monitoring Edward before he started to get bored. He got up and grabbed copies of the case files before returning to his spot next to Edward. He decided to use this time to go over the files properly so that he was aware of every fact. For the next hour, the only sounds in the room were pages being turned and Edward's slow, even breaths. It quickly became evident, however, that it didn't matter what dimension you were in, paperwork was still boring. However, setting the paperwork on fire would no doubt be a bad move. It might be a way to alleviate the boredom for a moment, but Mustang knew that the agents might see it as something more aggressive. He hoped that telling them the truth about the Promised Day would be enough to help the agents trust them more. So, while he decided against the urge to snap his fingers, he still wanted something interesting to happen.

It was another hour, however, before his wish was granted. A noise to his right drew his attention away from the paperwork he was pretending to read. Edward's eyes were flickering open and the teen was shifting underneath the blanket.

"You okay, kid?" Mustang asked, as Edward slowly sat up, rubbing his golden eyes with his flesh hand.

Edward blinked a few times and yawned before he focused his attention on Mustang. "Hmm? Yeah, totally fine. How long was I out?"

Mustang frowned. His subordinate did not sound fine. His voice was rough from sleep and exhaustion and he looked like he still needed another good twelve hours before he was fully rested. "You were out for a grand total of four hours. Why don't you get some more sleep? Nothing's happened, and trust me when I say this, you look worse than Father did when we beat him."

"Like you'd know what he looked like, bastard. As I recall, you were blind at the time." Edward scowled.

"Hawkeye described him to me, and I have a vivid imagination," Mustang shot back.

"I know you do. You have some amazing fantasies about somehow avoiding all of your paperwork and the Lieutenant's bullets when she realizes that you've been slacking off," Edward snorted. "It doesn't matter though, I'm not tired anymore."

"Really?" Mustang raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Okay, fine, I am, but I can't get back to sleep. But it's not a problem. As long as I don't do any more alchemy, I'll still get my energy levels back up," Edward said assuredly.

"But what about your actual health, Ed? I know your teacher had to have told you that using that much alchemic energy repeatedly isn't good for it. That and your sleeping habits. You need more sleep."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I know, but I can't help it. I'm tired, but my brain won't let me sleep. It'll sort itself out in time. Besides, if I just rest for a few more hours, I'll be ready to go. Stop worrying; you're starting to freak me out." Edward waved his concerns off, pushing himself more upright so that his back was pressed into the corner between the arm rest and the back of the couch.

Mustang sighed. He knew that Edward was stubborn. He had spent the last four years learning just how stubborn the kid was, after all. The simple fact that he had completed his recovery and therapy from his automail surgery in a third of the time it took most people was more evidence that Edward wasn't the type to surrender to a challenge. He knew no amount of arguing or pestering would serve his purpose and would only irritate the younger alchemist.

"Fine, but you're not allowed to do so much as make your own coffee. You stay on this couch, got it?"

Edward huffed in irritation. "Fine," he replied, rolling his eyes. "You must have been taking lessons in being a worrywart from Hughes and Al."

Mention of his deceased best friend was enough to cause the two of them to lapse into silence. After an awkward thirty seconds, Edward cleared his throat. "Where are the agents anyway?"

"They're briefing the local officers, canvassing the area you pointed out with your tracking array, and dealing with the media and tips from the public. Agents Hotchner and Jareau will probably be back soon," Mustang said before turning his attention back to the files.

"Oh, okay." Ed replied. After a few seconds, he leaned forward, trying to peer at the files. "What are you reading?"

"The files on the case. Just in case there's something we missed that might end up being an important detail later on."

Edward fidgeted a bit, shifting to a more comfortable position on the couch. "Can I read whatever you already have?"

Mustang shot him a look of annoyance. "You need to rest, Fullmetal."

"What? I'm bored. There's nothing to do, and besides, you might miss something too."

Mustang decided not to acknowledge that with a response. He merely handed Edward the two files he'd already read. Edward grabbed them with a quick thank you and opened the first one up to begin reading. Soon, the only sound in the room was each others' breathing and the rhythmic flip of pages.

 **A/N - Revised chapter 10, anyone? As always, let me know what you think to PhoenixQueen's epic work! I'll see you for the next update!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

JJ and Hotch walked back into the conference room they'd been working out of to find the two alchemists sitting on the couch talking, surrounded by copies of the case files. The two Amestrians hadn't noticed them enter the room, so JJ and Hotch took the opportunity to study the two alchemists when they weren't aware they had an audience. They couldn't hear what the two were talking about, but whatever the topic, it was clearly interesting . Both alchemists had a sparkle in their eyes like they were enjoying it, but their body language read like they were arguing about something. They also looked completely relaxed, which was different from when they were around the team. Any time anyone from the BAU was around the two alchemists there was a thread of tension running through them, as if their military training had been so ingrained in them that they felt like they were in enemy territory.

Just the fact that they were now relaxed, when they were unaware of Hotch and JJ's presence in the room was enough to confirm that the two alchemists still didn't trust them completely, which they both understood. Even though the alchemists had provided valuable assistance on this case, they had only known each other for a few days. Given the things that the Colonel had told them about the Promised Day and the corruption of their military, it wasn't surprising that they would have some difficulty in trusting agents of another country's government, especially in the span of only a few days. JJ remembered that Mustang had mentioned to Reid that it had taken nearly five years before he was able to have a pleasant conversation with Edward, so trust was clearly something they didn't give easily.

Of course, to be fair, they couldn't claim that they fully trusted the two alchemists yet, either. So the lack of trust from Mustang and Edward wasn't something they could take personally. JJ decided to interrupt the arguing alchemists before she and Hotch got caught spying on them.

"Hey, it's good to see you up, Edward. How are you feeling?" she asked, walking over to the chair closest to the couch and barely managing to hide a small smile over the fact that she made both alchemists jump slightly at her interruption.

"Hey, Agent Jareau. I'm good; I just need to rest until we get an exact location on Harding." He smiled at her, an expression which JJ reciprocated.

"That's great! You had us a little worried for a while. Do you want some breakfast, or some coffee at least?" She had been worried about the teen and now that she knew he was going to be okay, her mothering side was starting to come out. She knew the others joked about her being the team mom, but she didn't mind.

Edward scratched the back of his head, grinning a little sheepishly. "Actually, that would be great. I'm starving."

"Big surprise," Mustang muttered loud enough to be heard by both blonds.

"Oh, shut it, you!" Edward snapped, immediately on the defensive.

JJ decided to shift Ed's focus back to food before an argument could break out. "What would you like to eat, Ed?"

Edward's attention immediately returned to JJ as he thought about it. "Do you guys have pancakes here?" he asked hopefully. JJ's nod made him very happy. "Could I have some pancakes and black coffee, please?" He could feel Mustang's bemused look aimed at him, but he refused to pay it any attention. He was about to get pancakes that weren't made by a stressed and exhausted Winry or an armored Al! He loved both of them to bits, but being overtired or having no sense of smell made them very bad pancake cooks.

JJ smiled. "Pancakes and coffee it is. Hotch, Colonel? Do you want anything different?" Both men shook their heads and so she left to make some phone calls and find a place that delivered pancakes.

With his focus off of food for the moment, Edward turned his attention to Hotch. "Did you guys find anything new while I was out?" he asked, leaning back into the couch. Mustang was also waiting for Hotch's reply.

"We've had a few tips come in that sounded promising and were in the area you indicated, Ed, so we've been following up with those. Garcia is checking every camera she can access for footage of him, trying to trace his route from the park to where he's currently hiding. Morgan, Rossi, and Reid struck out with their search, and they're on their way back now. Prentiss was following up on something, so I'm waiting for her to call in with her report. We're closing in on him. I can feel it. You should both rest up while you can. I have a feeling we'll need your help very soon."

Mustang and Ed both nodded. This sort of briefing was what they were used to, Mustang more than Ed, since Ed generally got his briefings directly from Mustang and they usually ended up yelling at each other until Al intervened or Hawkeye her gun, whichever came first. Ed stretched hugely and made himself comfortable; continuing his self-assigned mission to read all the case files while Mustang and Hotch exchanged more words, content to wait for his pancakes.

* * *

A few minutes later, Reid, Rossi and Morgan entered the conference room to find Edward surrounded by the case files. Mustang had left the couch and moved over to the table where he and Hotch were talking quietly while Hotch was working on the official profile that they would need to submit with their case report. The new arrivals greeted the two alchemists and expressed their relief that Edward was awake and feeling better before taking seats around the conference table.

"Edward, do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?" Reid ventured after they gave their verbal reports to Hotch about their canvass results.

"Sure, what's up?" Edward asked, setting aside the file he was looking at and giving his attention to Reid.

"Why do you sometimes clap before you start your alchemy, and other times you have to draw out the array before you transmute?"

Edward paused for a moment, debating how to answer that question. He saw Mustang glance at him with a carefully blank expression that he could only read because they knew each other so well. It was their experiences with human transmutation that had given them the ability to perform alchemy by clapping through activating an internal array. For the most part, Mustang didn't use the ability even though he had it, since his transmutation circle was embroidered on his ignition gloves and he still needed the gloves in order to spark the fire.

"Clapping to perform alchemy is…an extremely difficult and very advanced alchemic technique," Ed said carefully. "Instead of drawing an array out, the alchemist activates an internal array, and the transmutation circle is formed when the hands are placed together and the power circulates through the alchemist. The difficulty is making sure that the alchemist clearly pictures, in full and exact detail, what the array needs to look like. Because of the detail that's required for advanced transmutations, the risk of a rebound is greater with the internal array. Most alchemists don't have the capability to learn it, but my brother and I can both do it. We first learned about the skill from our Teacher, and I figured out the technique a year after we finished our training with her. It took Al a few years to master, but he eventually learned it too."

"So if you can do it, why do you still draw some of them out?" Reid asked. "You drew out the array you used to make the dagger and the array you used for your trial run of the tracking array, but you clapped to transmute the wall in the parking lot and when you tracked Harding from the park. Is it easier to do in a stressful situation?"

Edward shook his head. "No, at least not for me. I've been able to do the clapping transmutations since I was twelve. For me, it's more natural to clap to transmute than it is to draw an array out. When we first got here and I made that dagger out of the table, I was trying to keep the full extent of our abilities secret in case it turned out that we couldn't trust any of you. When Harding attacked us in the parking lot of the hotel, it was just instinct that caused me to clap and the fact that I couldn't have drawn a circle quickly enough to block the attack. Teacher drilled Al and I to be able to draw circles quickly, but it still takes a few seconds, and when we were attacked, I didn't have enough time to draw an array. Whenever I use a brand-new array for the first time, I usually draw out the array because it helps me identify any potential flaws and potentially avoid a rebound. After the trial run of the tracking array succeeded, I felt confident enough to clap to transmute when I tracked Harding from the park."

He shrugged. "Clapping or drawing the array out are both valid ways of doing alchemy, but the clapping method is just exceedingly rare and difficult to master. It was another reason why I was able to become a state alchemist. The Füehrer was impressed that I had the skill and no doubt thought that it would be beneficial to the military if I ever had to go out on the front line, so I'm sure that it swayed him in my favor when I was certified, considering I was so young."

"Huh." Reid looked thoughtful. "That does make sense. You have an exceedingly rare skill, and it would be something that would be valuable to the military."

Edward nodded. "The military actually got access to two alchemists with that ability, since my brother's been travelling with me ever since I joined the military, even though Al didn't know how to transmute by clapping until I'd been in the military for three years."

Reid smiled. "Thank you for answering my question, Ed."

Ed smiled back. "Sure, Dr. Reid. It's nice to get to talk to someone who's so observant. With the exception of the rest of Mustang's team and a few others, most of the soldiers I've worked with aren't very observant when it comes to alchemy, and it can get frustrating sometimes."

Reid's smile turned into a knowing look. "I know what that's like. Sometimes it's hard to talk to people who don't see the world the same way we do."

Edward nodded and shifted his position on the couch a little, pushing himself more upright and ignoring the glare Mustang sent in his direction.

"I swear, getting you to rest when you're recovering is a mission in itself, Fullmetal," Mustang grumbled. "How Alphonse ever puts up with you, I have no idea. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to tie you to the bed whenever you get injured."

Edward snarled at him in response. "Shut your face, bastard. Exhausted or not, I'll put you through the outer wall of this building and out onto the street."

"Alphonse is your brother, right?" Reid interjected, hoping to prevent a fight between the two alchemists.

Edward blinked and nodded. "Yeah. He's a year younger than I am. Why?"

"How is he doing? Is he going to recover from his stay in the hospital?"

Edward blinked. "Huh? How'd you know that Al was in the hospital?"

"You mentioned it when you were explaining how you got to our dimension," Reid said. "You said that Colonel Mustang came to Al's hospital room to ask for your help."

"Oh." Ed's expression shifted and his face softened a little as he thought about his brother's long recovery. "Yeah, he's recovering, but it's going to take a while."

"What happened to him?" Hotch asked, curiously. "Is he sick, or injured?"

"A little of both, actually," Ed admitted, his face going neutral. "During the coup, he was fighting alongside us to save the country and he ended up sacrificing himself to save my life."

"Wait…he died?" Morgan asked. "Were the doctors able to resuscitate him?"

Edward shook his head. "He used alchemy. After the battle was over, I performed a transmutation to see Truth and I made a bargain with it. If it would give Al back to me, I'd owe it a favor that it could cash in any time. Truth accepted the bargain and gave Al back, but he was really weak. The transmutation took a lot of out of him and he's been recovering really slowly. He's gotten sick a couple of times during his stay in the hospital because of how badly he was drained by the transmutations, and that's just been prolonging his recovery."

"I thought you said that raising the dead was the greatest taboo an alchemist could commit?" Hotch mentioned.

"It is," Ed agreed. "But _I'm_ not the one who brought him back. I just made the bargain with Truth. Truth is the closest thing there is to an alchemy god, even if it is a giant bag of dicks, so the rules are a little different for it, I guess."

The agents looked thoughtful, and perhaps a little uneasy. After all, it wasn't every day that a teenager mentioned that he had come face to face with God, or a god-like being, anyway.

"It doesn't really matter at this point." Edward shrugged. "There's not much I can do about it except be there for him and help him through it. We're both just glad to be alive, considering the way things could have gone."

His expression made it clear that he wouldn't welcome any further discussion on the topic and the agents wisely turned their attention back to their profile notes. Mustang looked at Edward with a carefully neutral expression, but he knew that his sympathy and concern was in his eyes when Ed's own expression softened slightly. He knew all too well the sorts of emotions that Edward was feeling in regards to his brother. There would always be some guilt over the human transmutation that had trapped Al in a suit of armor for nearly five years, but there was also relief that their quest had come to an end and Al was back into his human body again. And of course there was concern and worry over Al's physical and mental health while he was recovering.

Eventually, Edward would have to start taking missions again, since he was still a State Alchemist, but after everything the brothers had been through, Mustang was doing everything he could to give the two of them time to heal and recover. He turned his attention back to the agents, listening quietly as they worked on finalizing the profile that they would submit along with their final case report.

* * *

An hour later saw a very happy, well-fed, and well-rested Edward. JJ had had the foresight to order enough pancakes and coffee to feed twenty people, but after Ed was done with them, there were just enough to feed everyone else, a fact that amused everyone, even if the agents were a little surprised by just how much food Edward was able to put away.

Prentiss had called in while they were eating to let Hotchner know that she was on her way back. She'd located a homeless woman who had told her where Harding was supposed to be holed up, and she and three regular patrol officers had staked the place out, hoping to get a glimpse of the man so that they had solid evidence he was there. Once they confirmed that he was there, she'd notified Garcia of her location so that the analyst could keep an eye on him with the city's security cameras while she made her way back to the station so they could come up with a plan to arrest him.

She rejoined the team twenty minutes after calling in. Reid was the first one to notice her, greeting her from where he was sitting next to Edward, who was currently reading a rather thick book.

"So you're a reader, Edward?" she asked as she moved over to the table and accepted one of the remaining containers of pancakes that JJ held out to her.

Edward nodded. "Al and I grew up reading our father's library of alchemy books, and whenever Mustang didn't have a mission for me, we spent most of our time researching new alchemic techniques in the libraries in East City and Central."

"Colonel Mustang mentioned that Ed had snuck out of their room last night and borrowed books from the hotel's lost and found," Rossi said with a chuckle. "Reid decided that just wouldn't do, so he's letting Edward read the book he had in his messenger bag."

"Other than the people who have been bringing food, it's the nicest thing anyone has done for me," Edward declared.

Prentiss laughed and quickly finished her pancake. Now that they knew where Harding was, there wasn't any time to waste. The last thing they wanted was for him to realize that his hiding place had been discovered and move so that they had to track him down again. "All right, well, three officers and I located Harding about two miles from the crime scene. After a quick stake-out, I can confirm that he's inside an older building, one that looks to be shut down or used by squatters. We didn't see any evidence that anyone else is there, but it is a large building so we can't be certain. I don't think that there will be any chance of a hostage situation or that he's armed with the gun he used on Edward's double, but we should still consider him to be such, especially if Edward is right and he does have a Philosopher's Stone."

"We should probably put SWAT on standby –" Morgan began, but Edward shook his head.

"We can't. I don't know what SWAT is, but Mustang and I can handle Harding – we're the only ones who can. That's the reason why the Truth sent us here. We also can't let the knowledge of alchemy or our home dimension be revealed any further than this group."

"Fullmetal is right," Mustang concurred. "The fact that some of the local officers have already seen where Harding is already complicates things immensely. They'll wonder where he went after we bring him back to Central and why he's not being prosecuted here in your country."

"But if he does have a Philosopher's Stone, will the two of you be enough to take him down?" Reid asked. "Colonel, you said that you and Edward would be at a huge disadvantage because of the Stone's power."

"His having a Stone doesn't mean we've automatically lost. It just means we have to try harder." Edward corrected. "We have our absorbing arrays, and I've faced another alchemist wielding a Stone before and survived. Mustang's combat skills compliment mine, because he specializes in long range and I'm better at close range." He turned to Mustang. "How did Harding normally activate arrays back in Amestris?"

Mustang thought about it for a moment before answering. "I'm pretty sure he has a leather cuff that has his array carved into it. I think he wears it on his right wrist."

Edward raised a skeptical brow. "You don't sound very sure, Mustang."

"What do you expect? I've never had the displeasure of working with the man, let alone learning his alchemic quirks," Mustang retorted.

"Whatever, old man. Anyway, if Mustang can keep Harding dodging his flames, I should be able to get close enough to him to cut his cuff off and perhaps steal the Stone from him." He looked over at Prentiss. "Did you see anything unusual about how he was acting that might give any indication of if he has a Stone and where it might be? He would have to be holding it to make it work."

"There was something on the ground in front of the entrance to the building, but we couldn't get a clear look without being spotted. Harding was pacing around the room, and it looks like he's gearing up for a fight."

"Did he do anything else? Other than the pacing?" Mustang asked after a moment of considering.

Prentiss nodded. "He kept glancing at his left hand, like he was reassuring himself that something was there."

"Makes sense. If we're right about the Stone, he'd be paranoid about losing it just before he goes up against us. So I'm going to go with the assumption that he'll have the Stone in his left hand during the fight. He also has a gun and there's possibly an array armed in front of the entrance. Did I miss anything?" Head shakes all around were the only response he received. "Okay then, so how do you want to go about doing this?" Ed asked, looking directly at Hotch.

Mustang's jaw dropped. "Since when have you ever asked before acting?"

Edward raised his eyebrow again. "Mustang, even I'm not irresponsible enough to go after a wanted fugitive by myself in a country I have zero understanding of. I'd prefer them to come up with a plan of attack since they have the experience of working in this country and within its laws."

Mustang couldn't believe what he was hearing. A sign of honest-to-God maturity from _Fullmetal_ of all people?

"Well, given what Prentiss just told us, you two are going to be exceptionally vital to our plans. I'd like for you two to stake out Harding's hideout and disable whatever traps you can. We'll get the blueprints of the building from Garcia and decide our position based on it to cover the two of you. I'll be positioned on a rooftop with a good sniper point, if possible. While I wish that Harding would simply surrender, I doubt it'll be that easy, so you two will need to draw him out into a trap. We can finalize that when we get a map of the area in here. I'm willing to wager that an alchemic fight won't be predictable, but I'm hoping that if you get him in a position where we can surround him, he'll give up."

"I'll do everything that I can to get it away from him. If I can get the Stone and his cuff away from him, the rest of you shouldn't have any trouble taking him down," Edward agreed.

"If he doesn't give up, we'll leave his capture to you two. All I ask is that you don't get yourselves or us killed and that you try not to kill him." Hotch added that last part as an afterthought. He fully expected Harding to make everything difficult, so he decided to make sure the alchemists knew they had free rein if the first plan didn't work.

"Okay. That's a plan I can work with. You?" Edward asked Mustang, who simply nodded. "Let's get those documents you need so we can get going."

"Morgan, call Garcia and get her to find us some blueprints of the building. Reid, find us a map of the area around the building, and let's plan out our positions."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they had both items laid out on the table in front of everyone. Morgan took command this time and was studying the maps intently. "Okay, so this is the blueprint for the building. It's a one-story building that was once a clothing store. This means we have a few areas where he might be hiding in. There's the changing room area, with four changing rooms in it. There's the main shop floor, the office, the storeroom and the staff toilet and break rooms. That means he could be in any one of these nine places. It's also possible he may have booby-trapped these places which means that if our plan to lure him out doesn't work, only Mustang and Edward can go in. If it comes to that, your job," he looked at the alchemists at this point, "is to defuse any traps you can and secure Harding, if possible. The arrest has to be made by one of use since neither of you are law enforcement or citizens here. Got it?"

Mustang and Edward nodded in agreement.

"Now, here's the map of the area. The building is here. It's got shops on either side of it, but you can't access either of those buildings from inside. There's an alleyway running behind it that's blocked off at one end, and a door leading out to it, so I want JJ and Rossi watching that door. There are all these buildings across the street, but according to Garcia they're either abandoned or used as storage or warehouses, so there shouldn't be many civilians around. Harding could get out onto the street by the front doors or the two display windows if he's willing to crash through plate glass. I'd like Prentiss on the right of the building to cover that window and door, and Reid on the other side to cover that window and door. I'll be here at the mouth of the alley to provide backup in case he slips past anyone. Hotch will be across the street positioned here," he jabbed a finger at a two story warehouse directly across from the target building. "Hotch will provide sniper assistance for Prentiss and Reid. He'll also have vantage points of the buildings next door, in case Harding decides to try to ambush us by moving to one of the other buildings. Any questions so far?"

The rest of the agents shook their head and Morgan looked to the two alchemists. "Where do the two of you think you should enter the building if you have to go in?"

"Mustang, can you use your flames to blow a hole through the wall?" Ed asked.

Mustang shot him an affronted look. "Of course I can."

"Good, because I think you should go through this building," Edward indicated the building to the left, "and blow a hole in the wall that separates it from that one. I'll do the same, but from the other side. That way, we can make sure Harding isn't hiding in the adjoining buildings and it'll be a really good way to make sure he can't use the Stone to create and opening himself to escape through. Ed sounded very pleased with his plan.

"You just want to blow something up," Mustang accused, sounding amused.

"Do not!" Ed immediately said, but lowered his voice and mumbled "Shut up," when Mustang raised a skeptical brow.

Mustang chuckled, but returned his attention to the agents. "It's a good idea. Any traps on the other sides of those walls could be triggered by the falling debris so that'll save us some extra work. And Harding would probably not expect me to let Fullmetal destroy anything, so it'll be an added surprise and should give Fullmetal a chance to close on him and disarm him before he can react."

He saw some skeptical looks, and headed off the objection he could see coming. "Plus, we can fix the walls after we've got Harding secured," he added.

Morgan nodded, seeing the value of the plan. "Any objections?" When nothing came up, he continued. "Is here anything else anyone has to add before we head out?"

"Yes. Mustang and I will be activating our absorbing arrays just before our grand entrance. That will give us fifteen minutes of being able to fight at our normal level. If we can get the Stone away from him, we'll be on more even footing, but there's no way to know how strong the Stone is. If you get the opportunity to shoot him, take it. He won't lose any of her personal energy using the Stone, and once our arrays run their course, alchemy will drain us twice as fast as it would if we were in Amestris. The sooner Harding goes down, the less chance there is of someone being killed."

"Fullmetal's right. If you've got the shot, take it. Don't worry about us. We'll focus on getting that Stone away from him and trapping him so we can secure him."

"Okay, so everyone is clear on the plan. JJ and Rossi will cover the rear, Prentiss will cover the front right, Reid will cover the front left. Hotch will spot from the opposite building, and I'll cover the alleyway's mouth. Ed will enter through the building closest to Reid, Mustang from the building closest to Prentiss. Hopefully Harding will be surprised enough for Ed and Mustang to capture him and we'll arrest him. If not, Ed and Mustang will try to subdue him or create an opening for someone to get a shot at him. Our aim is to capture him alive unless he proves to be too dangerous to do so. Got it?" Nods all around. "Good. Let's gear up and head out."

Everyone except the alchemists moved to do so. Morgan noticed. "I said gear up."

Mustang and Edward exchanged looks. "We heard. We are," Mustang replied.

"So you've got your earpieces in? Your mics are on?" Morgan asked doubtfully.

Ed wasn't the only one who looked confused. "And those would be?" he asked sarcastically.

"So that would be a 'no'?" Morgan signed before grabbing a set. Holding up his earpiece, he explained. "You put this in your ear. It conveys messages from whichever team member happens to be talking into their mic at the time." He held up the mic. "This device let's you talk to anyone on the same frequency and in range of the device. You press it like this, talk into it, and release so others can talk back through the earpiece."

Edward looked fascinated by them, while Mustang looked mildly impressed. Morgan grabbed two sets of each and passed them to the alchemists. "Here, Reid will help you with them. Once you understand how to use them they're set up, we'll head out."

Reid turned at the sound of his name and moved over to the alchemists to help them. It took nearly twenty minutes because Edward had a lot of questions but eventually they were set up and knew how to use them.

"Everyone set?" Hotch asked and got seven affirmative replies. "Let's head out."

 **A/N - Chapter 11 all revised and everything for you! I'll be posting the revised chapter 12 straight after this so keep an eye out for it. Pretty please let me know what you think to the revised version of this chapter!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve:**

The car ride to Harding's hiding place was thick with tension. None of the agents or the alchemists were strangers to this sort of tension, however. It was the tension created from everyone in the group doing the exact same thing: running through all of the worst case scenarios they could envision. As usual, they were separated into two cars, with the only difference from previous trips being that the alchemists were riding in the second car. Hotch had been of the opinion that Harding might foresee them coming and choose to ambush them, knowing that the alchemists usually traveled in the front car. So, Hotch had suggested they travel in the second car, just in case. The alchemists had simply agreed.

It was quiet in the car when a sudden ringing noise startled everyone out of their pre-mission thoughts. Rossi pressed a control on his phone and a familiar voice called out a greeting.

" _Hey everyone, I've got both cars patched in. I'm watching the live feed from the cameras surrounding Harding and the buildings next to and across from it. So far he hasn't done anything exciting. No movement, no strange lights, not a peep from him. I've got a couple of the cops here watching the feed from when Prentiss left up to when I started, just in case he managed to sneak out, but so far I've got a whole lot of nada."_ Garcia sounded slightly annoyed at that.

"Thanks for the update, Garcia. You do have a camera that's got the alleyway opening in its sight, right?" Rossi asked. He knew already that she would have, but it didn't hurt to double check.

" _You wound me, Rossi. Of course I do. A storage place across the street from it has one aimed right at it."_ Garcia scoffed in a joking manner.

" _Thanks, mama. You're the best,"_ Morgan's voice sounded over the phone.

" _Of course I am. I'll call you back if Harding moves. Stay safe."_

" _Always do, baby girl."_ A series of beeps indicated the end of the call as soon as Morgan spoke. Ed and Mustang couldn't help but wonder how much easier it'd be if Amestris had access to the same technology. Ed was curious to know how hard it would be to get someone to give him the information to make some of the technology available before they returned to their own dimension.

The car slowed down as they turned a corner and both alchemists readied themselves for a fight as the cars slowly drew to a stop, nearly a block away from their target. The group gathered just in front of the first car, all facing towards the building where they knew Harding was supposedly located.

"That's the target building, the grey one with the red door," Hotch indicated as he spoke. "Now, the alley is blocked at both ends by security fences and locked gates. I had Garcia contact as many of the buildings' owners as she could and everyone has said their buildings are locked and that the gates and fences were still intact as of yesterday. The only opening we know of is the alley closest to us. I know Garcia said that she hadn't seen anything suspicious yet, but is there anyway Harding could've left the building and avoided the cameras?" He directed the last question at the two alchemists.

Mustang took the first initiative. "There's the possibility that he made a tunnel that helped him escape underground but he would have no clue how many cameras we'd have access to. Fullmetal, what do you think?" He handed control of the conversation over to his subordinate, who was deep in thought.

"Garcia said that she didn't see any flashes of light, right?" Without waiting for a response, he continued with his train of thought. "I suppose he could've used our idea and just blown some holes through the adjoining walls until he got out, but Garcia would've captured the lights on film. Those windows would've done fuck all to block the light of the alchemic reaction. Do her cameras cover the rooftops as well?" he asked, this time wanting a response. When none were forthcoming, he knew his answer. "Can one of you call her and find out?" JJ nodded and stepped aside to make the call.

"What are you thinking?" Morgan asked, his brows furrowed a bit as he tried to follow Edward's logic.

"Well, assuming we don't have any camera coverage, he could've used the rooftops to move about unnoticed," Edward explained just as JJ finished up her phone call.

"Garcia says that none of the cameras cover the rooftops."

Edward swore softly and rubbed his hand over his face. "Okay. We can't do anything unless we know for certain he's in there, right?" Hotch nodded in answer to his question. "Fine, I'll get us that confirmation." Mentally preparing his tracking array, he clapped his hands together and activated it. He forced the energy to go outwards in every direction. As he suspected, the buildings were empty, including Harding's hideout.

Suddenly, a color flared in response to his energy. Spinning, he ended up facing in the opposite direction. _There! Harding was right there!_ Somehow he'd gotten behind them and was four buildings away from where they had expected him to be. The rogue alchemist was about to kneel on the ground when Ed realized where he was and what he was about to do.

"Mustang! Four down, on my right!" Edward yelled as he ended his transmutation. Pushing the sleeves on his left arm up, he activated his absorption array just as he heard two quick snaps and felt heat rush past him. He looked up, just as Harding took cover, the fireballs hitting where he'd been standing just a second before. The agents took cover behind the cars, and Edward crouched down next to Mustang and Hotchner. "He has a Stone. I could sense its energy this time, and it's powerful." He clapped again and transmuted his signature blade.

"Shit. At least we've got confirmation now."

Edward scoffed. "Yay for us. Now the plan's all screwed to hell. Now we've gotta figure out a way to get the Stone from him while he's in the open and has the tactical advantage."

"You were actually going to follow the plan? I thought you would've just fallen back on your go-to plan. You know, blow shit up and hope the bad guy gets caught under it." Mustang smirked as he tugged on his glove, ready to snap at the slightest movement from Harding.

"Oh, ha ha. You're hilarious. Although now that you mention it…" Ed replied in a thoughtful voice as he moved into a lax version of his fighting stance.

"You are _not_ blowing up any buildings here," Mustang informed him sternly.

Edward pouted as Hotch signaled for the agents to spread out, trusting them to make the right call. All of the agents had one eye trained on Harding's last known position and the other trained on the alchemists. It was a silent pass over, but everyone knew that Edward and Mustang were calling the shots now. After ten seconds of tense silence, Edward's infamous lack of patience got the better of him.

"Come on Harding! This is boring! We just want to take you back to Central, although we may have to make a small side trip first. Apparently you pissed Truth off when you skipped dimensions and he wants a little chat with you. What do you say? We all know you can't beat Mustang and you sure as shit can't beat me."

As much as he would've liked to do otherwise, Mustang stayed quiet. He knew that Edward was just trying to goad Harding into revealing his position. While not the most tactically sound option, it was classic Fullmetal – loud, brash, and showy.

* * *

Edward had his head cocked to one side as he strained his hearing to try and hear if Harding moved. He was about to attempt to provoke Harding again, when something moved in his peripheral vision. Allowing his finely tuned combat instincts take over, he lunged at Mustang and shoved him to the side, forcing him to the ground moments before a boulder the same size as he was smashed into the space where they had just been. As he scrambled back to his feet, he glanced at the rooftops just in time to see Harding lean over to see if his attack worked. With a quick clap, he slammed his hands onto the boulder and created sharp projectiles that he aimed straight for Harding. A series of snaps and fireballs quickly followed his attack, letting him know that Mustang had recovered and rejoined the fight. Edward groaned in frustration as Harding dodged or blocked everything and took off running along the rooftops.

Edward followed no more than a second behind him. Trusting Mustang and the others to follow him, he turned his attention to the fleeing alchemist. He could see a cut on Harding's arm, his sleeve soaked with blood, which gave him a small feeling of pride that quickly vanished when he saw the red light flash across Harding's wound and heal it. Growling as he ran, he utilized every ounce of his training and experience to dodge Harding's continuous attacks. It didn't take long for Edward to realize that Harding must have made preparations earlier, since he had apparently gathered numerous small objects which he then used the Stone to turn into larger weapons to throw at him and Mustang.

Edward noticed after dodging several of those attacks that Harding was only targeting Edward himself and Mustang, ignoring the agents completely. Clearly, Harding had decided to take on the two biggest threats first and he really hoped that that decision would come back and bite Harding on the ass. Ed and Mustang continued their own assaults, Mustang snapping and Edward barely slowing down to touch the ground to send up more projectiles, spikes, or stone hands, but Harding was far enough ahead that he had a few seconds to keep dodging or destroying each attack.

Secretly, Edward was glad that he kept using the Stone. He knew the Stones had a short lifespan, and if they could force Harding to use it up, the Stone would rebound on its user. From personal and professional experience, Edward knew that a rebound was _never_ in the unlucky alchemist's favor. That's when Edward noticed a new problem for Harding that might work in their favor. Harding was running out of rooftops. He was going to have to take a stand, which would give Edward a chance to close on him and perhaps steal the Stone.

Harding seemed to have noticed that he was at the end of the row of buildings as well, and exactly as Edward had hoped, he apparently had decided to stop running and simply fight them from the rooftop he was currently standing on. For the next few minutes, it was simply an exchange of attacks, dodges, and blocks, leaving the fight at nearly a standstill. Edward was unable to get any closer to the building, but Harding was unable to get past the combined defenses of Ed and Mustang. After several minutes of this, Harding suddenly changed his attack patterns and sent a large wave of sharp projectiles directly at the agents.

Ed reacted quickly, clapping and slamming his hands into the ground and sending a wave of alchemic energy racing along the pavement and causing walls to rise from the ground to shield the agents and stop the attack before it landed. Unfortunately, that left him wide open and the next thing he knew, a stone pillar created from the side of the building slammed into him, sending him flying before he crashed into a building behind him. He heard people yelling at him as he fought to get air back into his lungs. Coughing, he rolled onto his hands and knees, trying to assess the injuries he'd sustained.

Thankfully, he didn't appear to have many, as his automail seemed to have taken the brunt of the impact. Still, he didn't get out quite unscathed. He could feel blood running down the right side of his face, and the ache in his head just above his eye made him think that the old scar had reopened. He was also certain that at least two of his ribs were bruised or broken, and his shoulder port hurt like a bitch, but Truth kept its word because the automail itself wasn't damaged. His right leg had a decent sized gash on it, and he had a variety of other scrapes and bruises – no doubt he'd be a lot of pretty colors in the morning.

Standing up, he gingerly put weight on his left leg and was pleased to find that it was able to take his weight. The next thing he did was to take stock of his surroundings, particularly how the fight was going. The agents were still using the cover he had transmuted for them to line Harding up in their gun sights, ready to fire once they had an opening. Mustang was still sending his flames at Harding, but the older alchemist's attacks seemed to be getting slower and less powerful for some reason. Then it clicked in Edward's mind.

"Mustang! Activate your array, you idiot!" He ran forward to take his position up again. "I'll give you some cover, but hurry up!" Ed clapped his hands together and slammed them into the ground again, but this time, he was taking no prisoners. He didn't like it when people refused to fight fair, so now he wasn't going to either. Instead of creating one stone pillar to knock Harding off the roof and to the ground, he created four – designed to hit him from each direction. While he was doing so, Mustang yanked up his shirt and activated his absorption array.

Ed could see the immediate effect it had on him. Harding used the Stone to stop Ed's attack, but something was immediately apparent. The Stone's reaction time was slightly slower, and Harding had nearly been hit by the pillars.

Mustang resumed his attacks, but his mind clearly wasn't on the fight. "Ed, are you okay? What are your injuries?" Mustang asked, concerned as he sent a large fireball at Harding.

"I'm okay. The Stone's getting slower though. I think it's running out of souls." Edward ignored the second question. His injuries were nothing major. He'd had worse after all. "I don't think it will take much longer before the Stone rebounds." He followed Mustang's fireball with several transmuted spears.

"That's great. What are your injuries?" Mustang wasn't deterred. Obviously, Ed wasn't hurt that badly, since he was fighting alongside him. However, Mustang was also aware of how ridiculous the kid's pain threshold was.

Edward sighed. He knew Mustang was a stubborn bastard and just decided to get it over with. "Nothing major. Couple of broken ribs, a gash on my leg, and my shoulder port feels like someone slammed a stone pillar into it." He sent a surge of alchemic energy up the wall of the building to create a pair of stone hands to squash Harding like a fly, but the arsehole destroyed them before they could make contact. "I'm going to inform Hotch and the others about the Stone so they know what's happening. Give me some cover."

"Hold on, why don't you use the gear they gave you?" Mustang asked, remembering the gadgets they'd been given before they left the police station.

"Because they broke when I was hit." With that, Ed took off in the direction of the agents, weaving through the various obstacles left by the ongoing fight. He was reminded why he hated having broken ribs as he was running over to the agents. He was going to break Harding's ribs and make him run from here to Amestris as payback once this was over. He reached the agents and ducked behind the wall before holding up a hand to stop any oncoming questions.

"Before you ask, I'm totally fine. The Stone's losing power so if you can start taking well aimed shots that force him to use it more, that'd be real handy," Edward said as he wiped a mixture of blood and sweat out of his eyes. "Just try not to hit us, okay?" He flashed them a grin and took off to rejoin Mustang, who was still trying to land a successful blow.

"Damn kid. What does he take us for?" Morgan said as he aimed at Harding and fired off a round which Harding destroyed with the Stone. The other agents followed suit, each firing a round once they had Harding in their cross-hairs.

Ed used the distraction the agents offered to create another set of stone hands, this time hoping to simply grab Harding's wrists and force him to drop the Stone. His plan half succeeded, as one hand managed to snag Harding's right wrist and judging by the audible snap of bone and yelp of pain, broke his wrist. Edward felt a feral surge of pride run through him at the sound and pounced on Harding's momentary shock from the pain to transmute another stone hand to grab the other wrist, but Harding recovered enough to use the Stone to destroy it before it could. But in the same moment, one of the agents fired a round and Mustang sent a stream of fire straight for Harding.

* * *

Harding managed to deflect the bullet before realizing his mistake. He moved a second too late, and the fire engulfed him just as he activated the Stone to deflect it. His screams sent shivers up Ed's spine and he kept screaming for several seconds even after he put the fire out before he fell silent. The only thing holding him in place was the stone hand latched onto his wrist.

"He could be playing possum," Ed ventured after several minutes of silence, still poised to launch another attack. "It could be a trap."

"He could be and it could be, but I doubt it. That attack landed, and it was one of my stronger attacks. Even extinguishing it as early as he did wouldn't have helped much; he'd still be severely injured," Mustang said confidently, lowering his hand.

Edward followed his lead and moved into a relaxed version of his fighting stance. He trusted Mustang's judgment when it came to military and tactical matters – well, most of the time, anyway – but he knew better than to lower his guard completely until the threat was completely eliminated. That was something he'd learned the hard way, after his fight with the Slicer brothers in lab five and the fight with Envy in Gluttony's stomach a few months later.

"Is it over?" Hotch asked, moving out from behind the cover Ed had transmuted for them. The other agents seemed to be following Mustang's lead and had relaxed some, lowering their weapons for the moment.

"Why don't you bring him down, Ed? That building –"

Mustang was cut off by a sudden flash of reddish-purple light suddenly coming from the rooftop near where Harding was slumped over.

"What the –" Mustang gasped, bringing his hand back up to snap, but Ed grabbed his arm to stop him. Mustang glanced over at his subordinate.

The blond had dirt and blood streaked across his face, and his jackets and shirt were torn in several places. But the thing that caught Mustang's attention immediately was the teen's face. His mouth was open in shock and his golden eyes wide in shock and, most surprising, pity. "What is it, Ed?"

It took Ed a couple of tries, but eventually he answered, his eyes fixed on the rooftop.

"It's a rebound, Mustang. The Stone has reached its limit. It's rebounded back on Harding…and it looks exactly like the reaction from _that_ night."

 **A/N - As promised, the revised chapter 12! Please let me know what you think!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen:**

" _It's a rebound, Mustang. The Stone has reached its limit. It's rebounded back on Harding and it looks exactly like the reaction from_ _ **that**_ _night."_

Mustang and the BAU agents could only look on in horror as the light show continued for a few more seconds before it abruptly stopped. Everything went quiet. The only things they could hear were distant noises from within the city, and the ominous groans and creaks of the now ruined building as it threatened to cave in on itself. Hotch was the first one to move.

"I'm calling Garcia. We need FDNY out here to help recover Harding's body. That building is too unstable for us to go in." He pulled out his cell phone to do just that when Ed stopped him.

"No, don't call anyone just yet." The blond was still watching the building with a critical, impassive eye.

"Why not? We can't go in there without risking our lives and even I know there's no way for someone to survive that," Hotch argued, his finger about to hit the contact entry for Garcia.

"Because you could be wrong. He _could_ have survived. I've been privy to rebounds of various magnitudes. I've _seen_ a rebound that massive before and it _is_ survivable. Granted, that rebound wasn't caused by an overused Stone, but that's beside the point. Harding very well could have survived and been fused with the Stone. I've seen that before too. Wasn't pretty and the moronic alchemist was even more unstable afterwards. My point is that Harding could be alive and even more pissed off and unstable up there. I don't know who FDNY is, but I doubt they're capable of dealing with that," Ed pointed out as he finally tore his gaze from what was left of the rooftop to face the agents.

"I agree with Hotch. There's no way Harding survived. That rebound, plus the attacks we landed, plus collapsing through the roof of the building? There's just no way." Morgan said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"It _is_ possible to survive a rebound that big! _I_ survived one like that! Plus, the roof hasn't caved in yet, so he's still up there and he's probably waiting for us to get distracted so he can attack!" Edward snapped back; only to immediately regret his words. He hadn't meant to reveal that bit of his past. Inwardly cursing himself, he continued speaking, hoping they'd forget about what he'd just said. "I'm going to check and see if he's alive and what his status is." He turned and jogged closer to the building, limping slightly, before stopping just before the sidewalk. Clapping his hands together, he pressed down onto the asphalt before creating a pillar to lift him up level with the building's roof.

Even Hotch didn't say a word as they watched Ed move away after he realized what he'd said. Mustang watched him go with the faintest hint of worry barely showing through his well-practiced mask.

"Is he serious? He really caused and survived an alchemic rebound like that?" Reid whispered, almost horrified.

"He is. However," Mustang held up a hand as Reid opened his mouth again. "I'm not the person you should be asking about it. It's not my story to tell." Reid shut his mouth at the finality in the Colonel's voice. Mustang turned his gaze back to Edward, a silent way of telling the agents to drop the subject, which they did. The pillar Edward was transmuting had come to a stop, level with the rooftop. He'd readied his automail blade again, just in case Harding had prepared a trap or decided to do what most insane people thought was a great idea, that being leaping from the rooftop to tackle him off his perch. If the agents had seen his face, they would have seen his golden eyes turn almost clinical as he assessed the scene before him.

* * *

Harding was surrounded by a cloud of dust and ash and lying in the middle of a decent-sized pool of blood. He wasn't moving, but Ed thought that he wouldn't be inclined to move if he was in Harding's position. Harding looked like a half-baked roast. His skin had bubbled and melted in some places, his clothes were barely existent, he had no hair left, and that was just from Mustang's attack. Ed could see various other wounds; cuts bullet wounds, and broken bones. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Ed activated his tracking array. While he wasn't using it to track Harding anymore, he had noticed something when he used it to track him from the latest crime scene. _His tracking array couldn't see anything dead_. He spread his arms and opened his eyes to look at Harding and confirmed his suspicions. Harding was still alive and if his alchemic energy level was true, he was still dangerous. Shutting off his array, Ed almost collapsed from the exhaustion and cursed at this world's lack of alchemic energy. He was so tired that he almost missed the movement on the rooftop and barely managed to dodge the attack Harding had sent towards him. He clapped as he rolled backwards off the pillar and slammed his hands into the side to create handholds, which he just managed to grab with his automail arm.

He almost let go of his handholds as he felt the arm pull at the port from the sudden stop, which hurt like a bitch when combined with the lingering pain from the blow Harding managed to land earlier. He felt himself draw blood as he bit his lip in an effort to stop himself from crying out when he felt the port pull at the muscles that grew around it. On top of the pain in his arm, his sudden stop reminded him very quickly about his broken ribs. Dust and chunks of asphalt fell around him, leaving tiny nicks whenever the sharp edges connected with Ed's skin as Harding's revitalized attack hit where Ed had been only seconds before.

"Ed!" He heard several people below him shout as soon as they realized what had happened.

"I'm fine!" he shouted back. He gauged his situation and realized he was only a little more than a story high, which he could easily jump from without dying, so he let himself drop and moved into a forward roll as soon as he felt his feet hit the ground, dispersing any momentum he had gained. He rolled smoothly onto his feet, only to promptly be pulled off them again by a very worried and irate Mustang, who was surrounded by equally worried-looking agents.

"What were you thinking? This is why you're always in the hospital! Are you okay? What are your injuries?" Mustang demanded, gripping Ed by his shoulders.

Ed hissed in pain as Mustang gripped his shoulder port. He jerked back, pulling away from Mustang's hands before he bothered answering. "I don't have any major injuries, Mustang. Seriously," he added at the sight of Mustang's disbelieving expression. "My shoulder port and ribs are the only potentially problematic injuries I've got, I swear."

"What about the gash in your leg?" Mustang asked, knowing that arguing further about broken ribs and damaged automail would be a waste of time. Ed would keep fighting until he literally dropped in his tracks. He still remembered the time when Ed had arrived early to report in after a mission, and Hawkeye had allowed him to wait in Mustang's private office while Mustang had been in a meeting with General Grumman. Mustang had arrived from his meeting twenty minutes later, only to find Edward passed out cold on the floor and unable to be woken. He'd rushed the teen to the hospital, only to find out that the younger alchemist had been bleeding internally, if however slightly.

"It's fine. I've had worse and you know it," Edward retorted. "And before you start channeling Winry about fighting with damaged automail, I will point out the fact that Truth swore my automail would stay perfectly functional, which means I can still fight."

* * *

Mustang at least had the decency to look mildly surprised that Edward knew what his train of thought was. Before he could reply, a large shape slammed into the ground, just a few meters behind Ed. Swinging Ed around by his good shoulder so he was facing the threat, Mustang brought his hand up and snapped his fingers sharply, sending a massive stream of fire straight for Harding, who was currently struggling to get to his feet.

Ed decided that Harding didn't look any better up close. It was now obvious how the Stone had rebounded. Harding barely looked human, and it had nothing to do with his injuries. His eyes were completely red and his expression was one of a feral animal who'd been tormented, cornered, and was ready to lash out, consequences be damned. His body had been warped and twisted by the Stone's rebound, in much the same way that Father Cornello had after his Stone had rebounded. Somehow a huge amount of mass that hadn't been there before had been added to his body, making him nearly twice as large as he had been when the fight began. Edward stared at him in fascinated horror. Harding shouldn't have even been able to _stand_ in his condition, let alone willing to fight.

"What happened to him?" JJ's horrified voice whispered to Ed's right. The agents had fallen back behind the two alchemists, closer to the cover that Ed had transmuted for them. From this position they could still get a shot off at Harding, but without being in direct danger themselves. The two alchemists kept their eyes on Harding, analyzing his every move to try to predict his next attack.

"That's the result of the rebound," Edward said grimly, falling back into his defensive stance. "He's been forcefully merged with the Stone. My theory? There were probably only a handful of souls left and they likely tried to either take him down with them or they merged with him in an effort to keep themselves alive a little longer. He is no longer in control. Consider him to be no more than an extremely dangerous animal. He can't be returned to normal."

He wasn't one hundred percent certain what the Stone did, but he knew there was no way to fix anything affected by a rebound that big. Harding was going to be delivered to Truth either dead or unconscious and securely bound. "Be prepared for anything. He's just going to lash out with random attacks. There'll be no thought process behind his moves; he'll just do whatever his instinct says."

"Do you want to try trapping him first?" Mustang asked in a low tone, hand still poised to snap. He was nominally in charge, being the higher-ranked officer, but Edward had far more experience when it came to dealing with a Stone.

Ed considered the question for the moment before answering. "Yes, but not yet. We need to make him use up as much energy as we can so he's easier to trap. I've got a feeling that his senses are a lot sharper now," he whispered back.

Mustang nodded his understanding as Ed quickly turned back to quickly tell the agents that the plan was now to force Harding to use up his energy. Catching Mustang's eye as he readied himself to attack, he nodded, giving the signal to start. Ed raced forward, automail blade held at the ready as Mustang successful sent controlled bursts of flames at Harding while avoiding Edward.

Edward knew that he didn't have a lot of alchemic energy left, even if he were to activate his absorbing array. He wasn't quite willing to risk activating the array, considering that both he and Mustang had already used the array in this area. Having the absorbing array rebound on them…no. Not worth the risk while Harding was this unstable and there was still a chance that they could bring him down. For the time being, he decided to use hand-to-hand and save the last of his alchemic energy for the final moments of the fight.

Harding was kept busy dodging Mustang's flames and the agents' bullets whenever one of the managed to squeeze off a round, but once Edward got up in his face and started slashing at him with his automail blade, trying to exhaust him, he really had his hands full. More and more attacks started to land, and Edward was able to get in a few good blows of his own.

Ducking Harding's left fist at the last second, the breeze of which ruffled the hair on the top of his head, Edward wasn't able to avoid it when the right fist landed a solid punch directly on his unguarded ribs which left Ed reeling from pain. At the same moment, Mustang landed an attack and Morgan's bullet pierced Harding's left thigh. Harding screeched in pain and gave Ed a few precious seconds to collect himself and launch another series of attacks.

As the fight wore on, Ed could feel his own attacks start to become lethargic and sloppy – to the point that Teacher would have been able to kick his ass in under a second if she had caught him this tired. He was using so much energy that he knew that if they didn't end this fight within the next three minutes, Ed would be useless. He hurt all over now thanks to Harding landing more blows than not. He'd also acquired lots of cuts and scrapes from having to escape some attacks by throwing himself to the pavement. He had a bullet graze on his left arm from one of the agents' guns, but he thought it was worth it since that bullet had managed to hit Harding in the chest, possibly lodging itself in one of his lungs, if the raspy, tortured breathing was anything to go by.

He could tell that everyone else was nearly spent as well. Mustang looked as exhausted as he felt and only Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan had bullets left to fire. The other agents had made the executive decision to find some cover since they now couldn't protect themselves. That's when an idea popped into Ed's head.

It was a stupid, reckless idea, inspired by something that he'd seen Teacher do during the final battle with Father on the Promised Day.

It might not work.

But if it did, Harding would never able to survive it.

Mustering up the last dregs of his physical energy, Ed put some distance between himself and Harding with a couple of back flips. "Mustang! Send the biggest fireball you can manage at him! I have a plan!" Ed shouted across the street as he mentally prepared the array he'd need and the energy he would need to pull it off. He watched Mustang with an eagle eye, since timing was everything for this plan to succeed

Mustang stilled for a moment before taking a deep breath to prepare the energy he'd need to do as Ed requested. Mustang snapped, sending a fireball twice the size of Harding and three times hotter than your average fire straight for the rogue alchemist. A split second later, Edward clapped, slamming his hands to the ground in front of him and sending the alchemic energy along the ground and past Harding.

As he had suspected, Harding tried to dodge the fireball, but it was far too late. Edward's transmutation had raised a thick wall on three sides of him, leaving Harding no choice but to face the oncoming threat. Moments before it landed, Ed completed the array and built the fourth wall and roof, trapping Harding and the fireball in the same small space together so that Harding had absolutely no chance of escaping.

Harding's screams filled the air, screams that made Ed sick to his stomach. After a few moments, the screams died away, but nobody made a move towards the makeshift cage. Edward leaned over and rested his hands against his knees and just breathed for a few minutes while he waited for the fire to starve itself of oxygen. Finally, he walked over to the wall and borrowed Scar's technique to destroy a small section of wall. The smell – a combination of odors that reminded him of frying beef, grilled fatty pork, burnt liver, charcoal, sulfur, and copper – almost made him throw up. His eyes watered and his stomach flipped as he took in the horrific sight of charred remains. He stumbled back a step, and a moment later Mustang yanked him away from the box turned crematorium.

Edward moved several steps away and dropped to his knees as his stomach finally rebelled past his ability to control it. For all that he enjoyed pancakes and coffee, they tasted far worse coming back up than they had when he had eaten them earlier that day. Mustang knelt beside him and rubbed his back soothingly while he heaved. Shakily wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, he pushed himself back to his feet with Mustang providing a supporting elbow as the colonel walked him away from the corpse.

Mustang was amazed at Ed's ingenious trap, but he also knew that the blond had never killed someone before. While the smell of burnt flesh and the sight of charcoaled remains were not unfamiliar to him, even he still struggled with it, as they brought back horrible memories of Ishval. He knew that Ed would no doubt remain shaky and probably a little ill for a while, but would eventually pull himself together and put on a brave, unbothered face. What he was really worried about was the eventual fallout – the moment when the teen realized what had happened.

He put Edward back over by the agents' cars before returning to the box where the corpse was still smoldering. With a few simple transmutations, he had restored Edward's confining box back into the pavement and restored most of the damage to the surrounding area, before rejoining his subordinate to wait by the cars as the agents moved about, making calls and preserving the scene. After a few minutes of watching the agents, he cautiously wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders, providing wordless support. Edward stiffed at the unexpected contact, but Mustang kept his arm firmly in place and a moment later felt the younger alchemist tremble slightly, in a mix of exhaustion and relief. He tightened his grip as Edward leaned into the supportive embrace and vowed that he'd be there for Ed when that fallout happened.

 **A/N - Here's chap 13 all revised and everything! This will be a short A/N because Chap 14 will be posted next!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

It took the agents and local police department most of the day to finish working the crime scene and taking statements. It also took a rather incredible amount of bullshitting on the part of the FBI and alchemists – enough that even Edward, with his history of "creatively" reporting on his missions, was impressed – to convince the local police that Harding had booby-trapped the area with explosives and other traps, and that one of them must have included some sort of accelerant that Harding had gotten on himself. That combined with a stray spark from a bullet or a bit of flying metal must've set him alight. They even went so far as to caution the police officers and crime scene techs to watch out for any traps that may still be set.

Mustang stayed right by Ed's side, silently supporting the exhausted, wounded teen throughout the hours while the agents went to work. The teen's gloves had been destroyed in the fight, so Mustang loaned him his, although not before giving him a stern warning and extracting a promise that he would be extra careful with them and would return them as soon as they were back in the hotel or once Ed could get a replacement pair.

Ed had grumbled and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion but accepted the gloves. "Did you hit your head or something? You're starting to act like you care and it's creeping me out."

"Brat," Mustang replied, ruffling the teen's sweaty golden hair and ignoring the snarl he received in response as Ed flattened his hair back into place. He was glad to see that Edward had at least managed to put his mask back in place. He was still worried about the moment when everything would catch up with him and he realized exactly what had happened, but for the time being he was just happy to see the blond acting like his normal, bratty self.

At one stage, Prentiss brought a paramedic over to where they were leaning against the SUVs. The man had taken one look at Edward – covered in blood, sweat, and grime – and strongly recommended that the teen go to the hospital.

"No," Ed said simply, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly and glaring at the medic. "I don't need a hospital. I need a shower and some sleep, and that's all."

"Then at least let me look over your injuries and disinfect and bind them up," the paramedic insisted. "You're covered in blood and you've got so much filth on you, you're risking infection if you don't get them covered."

Edward shook his head. "No. I'll be fine. I know how to clean and dress my own wounds." He ignored the man's further protests, even when he looked to Mustang for some support or for the older alchemist to overrule Edward and directed his attention to the activity near Harding's body.

Mustang shook his head no and shrugged, and the paramedic sighed in defeat and left the two alchemists alone, with Prentiss trailing behind him after casting a concerned glance at Edward. It wasn't as if the agents could have missed the way Edward had thrown up his stomach contents earlier, and no doubt they didn't believe his bravado. However, it was also clear that the teen wasn't willing to talk about it, and Mustang was most likely the best one to handle it, since he was Edward's commanding officers and spent the most time with the younger alchemist.

* * *

Doctor Reid came over to them several hours into the cleanup, after assisting with the questioning of a few civilians who'd heard the fight and come to check it out (thankfully after it was over and all signs of alchemy had been cleaned up by Mustang) and asked if they'd like to go back to the hotel and get some food and sleep.

"Yes!" Edward exclaimed. "Let's go now."

"I agree," Mustang said. "We used a lot of energy and I could use some sleep as well."

Reid nodded and chuckled. "Okay, just wait a few more minutes while I see how many from the team we can spare."

It turned out that everyone except for Hotch and Rossi accepted the invite for food and sleep and they commandeered both cars with JJ promising to come back to pick Hotch and Rossi up when they were finished with the scene. Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss ended up taking one car back, while Mustang and Edward found themselves riding with JJ. Mustang seized the opportunity to grab the front passenger seat while Ed was shunted to the back. Edward was honestly too tired to give a shit and the back seat was starting to look more and more like an ideal place for a nap once they started moving.

Al had always said that he was impressed at how it seemed that Ed could sleep anywhere at any time, no matter how uncomfortable it might be, and right now he was fighting that urge. As much as he desperately needed the sleep after expending so much energy, he was _not_ going to fall asleep until he was safely behind the door of the hotel room. He was not going to have JJ or any of the other agents witness him in the middle of a nightmare.

The car ride back to the hotel was mostly silent, broken only by a few quiet questions from JJ about what they'd like to eat. Both alchemists indicated that they didn't have a preference and would eat just about anything to replenish the energy they had expended. So instead, JJ had followed up with more probing questions about what foods they liked, didn't like, or if they had any known food allergies that she would need to avoid. Armed with the knowledge that if milk (unless in cheese form), capsicum, or peas made an appearance in any of their food, the agents would have two severely displeased alchemists on their hands, she dropped them off at the hotel and gathered orders from the other agents. As she pulled away in search of a restaurant that could prepare enough food to feed an army and to fill Garcia in, the rest of the group headed into the hotel.

There was a brief discussion about whether they'd be eating in their own rooms or together in the meeting room Ed had discovered. Morgan was the one who had made the decision in the end. He pointed out that Ed looked dead on his feet and that Mustang didn't look much better, and since they didn't know how long JJ would be, they might as well head to their rooms, clean up, and get some sleep until she came back.

* * *

After being assured that someone would get them when food arrived, the two alchemists disappeared into their room. Almost immediately, Ed was in the shower. Mustang scrounged around their room and found a small first aid kit in their little kitchenette. Within minutes, Edward exited the bathroom wearing only his boxers and carrying the rest of his clothes and a small first aid kit he'd found in the bathroom. Mustang seized the opportunity to really give him a proper once over, noting every injury he found.

"I'm going for a shower. Don't go to sleep yet. I'll help you treat your wounds," Mustang ordered firmly as he headed for the bathroom. He saw Edward roll his eyes in response but ignored the disrespectful gesture as he had so many other such gestures from the younger alchemist over the last few years. Quickly undressing and hopping into the shower, Mustang scrubbed himself clean and did his own wound inventory. He'd suffered several cuts and grazes, a multitude of bruises, and a sprained wrist from when Edward had tackled him to the ground, but only one of the cuts seemed like it'd need stitches. The rest of his minor injuries could be left alone to heal. It was just too bad that his sprained wrist wasn't his dominant hand – once they got back to Amestris, he wouldn't be able to use his injury to avoid his paperwork.

Finished with his shower, he walked out dressed the same as Edward. Edward didn't even flinch at the sight when Mustang walked out of the bathroom. He had apparently spread his towel out on the bed after using it to dry off his automail and had the first aid kit opened next to him and was currently cleaning and binding one of the many cuts he'd received in the fight.

"Put your clothes over there with mine," Ed said, not even looking up as he pointed to his bundle of filthy clothes. "I'll clean and mend them after we get some sleep." Mustang did as he had been directed and made himself comfortable on the bed next to the blond. Edward didn't protest when Mustang lifted his left arm and took the alcohol-covered swab from him and continued to disinfect the wounds. Mustang noted that only a couple of the cuts Ed had sustained on his upper half would need stitches.

He tossed the swab in the trash bin, prepared a new one and moved on to the old scar above Edward's right eye that had been reopened in the fight. He knelt in front of Ed for this one, using one hand to keep Ed's bangs out of his eyes while he gently cleaned the gash. He saw the faintest wince of pain from the teen at the sting of the alcohol, but otherwise showed no signs of discomfort. While the wound had bled heavily during the fight, it wouldn't require stitching, just some gauze and a bandage to protect it until it closed again.

With a third swab in hand, Mustang moved on to Ed's legs. The upper part of his left leg above his automail port, hadn't sustained any injuries aside from some minor bruising, but he had a particularly nasty gash on his right calf. He looked up at Edward. "This one's going to hurt like a bitch to clean. I'm going to have to get in there properly to clean it."

Edward shrugged. "I've had worse. Just do it." So, Mustang did as he asked. Ed flinched when Mustang started, but the older alchemist simply held his leg still and continued with his work.

"Did you notice if either of the first aid kits had any supplies for stitches?" Mustang asked as he finished up with the gash. Once it had been cleaned out and he'd gotten a proper look at it, Mustang realized that it wasn't as deep as he'd originally thought. It definitely needed stitches, but he'd been worried that he would end up having to drag the blond to a hospital to get it dealt with. Thankfully, he got to avoid the hassle of knocking the kid out and then having to deal with the angry aftermath.

"No, they didn't. What kind of med kit doesn't have crap for stitches?" Ed grouched with a glare at the kits.

"Clearly they weren't prepared for you and your knack for getting seriously injured," Mustang replied smoothly as he rummaged through the kit looking for things he could use.

"Oh shut it, Mustang. Are you nearly done?" Ed snapped at him.

Mustang made a small sound of victory when he came up with a trauma pad and some more bandages. "Nearly; I just have to wrap your leg up and you'll be alright until we get back to Amestris to get that leg and arm stitched up," he said as he proceeded to wrap the wound up. Once he was finished, he cleaned up the empty wrappings and used disinfectant swabs and tossed them. He looked up at Edward. "How's your automail port?"

Edward rotated his right arm carefully, listening to the sound of the metal and feeling how the nerves reacted to the movement and weight of the arm. "I'm not sure. It feels about how I would expect it to feel if it was jammed between stone and brick due to a hard impact. Truth is protecting it, so it's still functioning, but I'll probably need Winry to take a look when we get home and make sure that the connections between the nerves and the port itself aren't damaged."

Mustang gave him a concerned look. "Is that a possibility?"

Edward lifted and rotated his arm again. "I don't think so. Even with Truth protecting it, I think there'd be more pain if the connections themselves were damaged. It's hard to tell since the metal itself doesn't transmit pain. The pain is coming from where the metal is attached to my skin and muscles, so I think it's just going to be a deep bruise, maybe a strain around the port itself."

Mustang nodded. "Okay." He rose from his kneeling position in front of Edward and moved over towards his own bed with the second first aid kit. While he was doing that, Ed inspected his handiwork. He had to admit – if only to himself, since Mustang didn't need his ego inflated any further – that he'd done a decent job of patching up the wounds. He glanced over at his commanding officer. He could tell from the way the man was holding his arm that his wrist was damaged. Sighing, the blond stood and limped over to the other bed before sitting heavily next to him and taking the swab from Mustang's hand.

"What are you doing?" Mustang asked, startled by the action.

"What does it look like? Helping you," Ed replied as he set to work. He may not have had any formal medical training, but he'd hurt and patched himself up enough times to know the basics. He reached towards the largest cut he could see, on Mustang's left bicep.

"You should be resting. I can manage by myself," Mustang argued as he reached to take the swab back.

"You've got a busted wrist, some pretty deep bruising and a small cut on your shoulder, and a large gash on your back. There's no way you can clean it out properly, even if that was your only injury," Ed pointed out as he moved his hand to dodge Mustang's grab.

Mustang froze. "I do?" He hadn't noticed he'd injured his back when he was in the bathroom, but now that Ed had mentioned it, his shoulder blades were throbbing.

"See? You obviously need help if you didn't even notice it." Mustang had to agree with that, so he let Edward clean him up. He was a bit worried by the fact that Ed seemed to be far too much at ease with what he was doing. Ed finished cleaning his shoulder wound and put a small piece of gauze over it before taping it down securely.

"I guess it's an unfounded hope that you learned to do this simply because you've read a medical book?" Mustang asked.

Ed let out a small huff of amusement. "Of course I read medical textbooks. But there's nothing like a bit of real world practice to make sure you know what you're doing," Ed replied as he finished up with the cut on Mustang's back. Thankfully, even though it was long, it was shallow and wouldn't even need wrapping up. "You can turn back around now. Give me your wrist."

Mustang held out his injured wrist. "Do I even want to know?" Mustang asked as Ed gently prodded his wrist and hand to judge the severity of the injury.

"Let's just say that my medical history contains barely half of my injuries. It's just a bad sprain by the way. So you'll need to ice it and rest it for a few days. Luckily, it's not your writing hand, so you'll be able to get back to all that wonderful paperwork once we get home." Ed grinned as he started wrapping Mustang's wrist up.

"Don't remind me," Mustang groaned. The thought of nearly a week's worth of backlogged paperwork and a very pissed off Lieutenant Hawkeye was not appealing.

Ed didn't even bother to hide his smile as he finished what he was doing and cleaned up. Just the thought of seeing Mustang trying to avoid or placate Lieutenant Hawkeye was something he was looking forward to seeing. It was the little things that brought him so much pleasure these days.

Mustang stood and moved to the fridge to check for any ice packs or ice he could wrap up. Thankfully, he found an ice pack and placed it over his wrist as he headed back for the bed. He had thought he'd see the blond curled up and sound asleep, but was surprised to see him drawing on himself. Glancing at it, he recognized the absorbing array just as Ed finished drawing it.

Edward looked up and saw Mustang standing next to him, looking down at the array. He motioned for the Colonel to hold out his arm. "Activate it before you go to sleep. That way we can speed up our intake of energy while we rest," he said as he traced the array onto Mustang's arm. Mustang nodded at the idea. "Done. Get some sleep, Mustang. You look like shit," Edward said with a small wave of his hand.

Mustang snorted, but did as he was told. He got himself under his blankets and watched Ed do the same, albeit a bit more cautiously thanks to his wounds. Both alchemists got settled and activated their arrays, immediately feeling the effects.

Mustang was nearly asleep when he heard Ed call his name.

"Hey, Mustang?"

"Yes, Ed?"

"Thanks for helping me."

"Anytime, kiddo. Thanks for helping _me_."

"Anytime, old man."

"I'M NOT OLD!" The last thing Mustang heard before he fell asleep was Ed's laughter, and he had to admit, there were worse sounds to fall asleep to.

* * *

Ed had hoped that his exhaustion would lead to a dreamless sleep, only to be confronted with something he hated more than his nightmares: a white world and a black gate.

"Hello, young alchemist," the static figure grinned at him.

"Hello, Truth," Edward sighed. "What do you want this time?"

"Why Edward, what could I possibly want with you except to congratulate you on a job well done?" Truth asked, almost sounding affronted.

"It we've finished the job, are you here to bring me and Mustang back?" Edward asked, more than a little suspicious about why he was here and Mustang wasn't, if Truth was about to bring them back to Amestris since their task was done.

"Not quite. You see, I can't bring you back unless you activate the human transmutation circle and come here yourselves." Truth grinned.

A trickle of suspicion tickled the back of Ed's mind. "Will there be a price to pay if we do that?" Edward asked, almost completely certain what the answer to that question would be, considering his prior experiences with Truth and the Gate.

"Of course! You don't expect to pass through me _twice_ without payment?" Truth asked.

" _Of course_ you'd make us pay for the return trip. Why isn't that included as part of the deal? We succeeded in our mission so why isn't that payment enough?" Ed demanded angrily.

"Our first deal was that you would owe me a favor in exchange for your brother back, body and soul. I called in that favor when Harding managed to sneak past me. This time our deal was that you and Mustang would stop Harding and that I would give you information pertaining to that world and keep your automail and alchemy functional. A free return trip was not discussed and therefore isn't part of the deal. You need to pay a toll to get back to Amestris," Truth explained, as though it was obvious.

Edward stared at his most hated nemesis. "You're serious?" was all he managed to gasp out as he felt Truth's words sink in to his brain. "You're seriously making us _pay_ to get home?"

"Of course! Equivalent exchange, young alchemist! You completed your task, thus your payment for your brother's return has been finalized. _I_ don't owe _you_ any favors, after all. I'm sending you back now. It seems the lovely Agent Jaraeu is knocking at your door. See you soon, Edward Elric." Truth's evil grin was the last thing he saw before his eyes snapped open and he woke, gasping for breath.

* * *

"Edward! Are you okay?" Mustang was hovering next to him as he fought to calm his breathing down. He could vaguely hear knocking in the background. Finally, he managed to get his breathing under control as he sat up.

"I'm fine. Go and get the door before they break it down. I'll tell you about it later." He got carefully out of bed and grabbed their dirty clothes, ignoring Mustang staring at him. As he clapped his hands to perform his cleaning array, Mustang moved towards the door to answer it. He could hear murmured voices and a minute later the door shut and Mustang was back beside Edward.

"It was Agent Jaraeu. Food is here and we're all gathering in that meeting room in five minutes. What happened? Another nightmare?"

Obviously, Mustang wasn't going to be easily dissuaded. Ed handed him his clean and mended clothing, which Mustang accepted with a nod, but didn't make a move to put on, waiting patiently for Ed to talk. With a sigh, Ed clapped again and performed the same cleaning and mending array on his own clothes.

"It wasn't a nightmare. Truth paid me a visit," Ed said in a flat voice as he started to dress himself, being mindful of his injuries. Mustang started following his lead, although he kept his onyx eyes on Edward.

"What did it want?" Mustang queried, knowing it wasn't going to be good news, judging by Edward's tone and expression.

"It decided to tell us we did a good job in stopping Harding, and to inform me that we aren't going back to Amestris unless we pay a toll," Edward informed him.

Mustang froze, halfway through buttoning up his dress shirt. "Are you serious? It's making us pay for passage back?"

Edward winced at the disbelieving and disgusted tone in his commander's voice. "Yeah. Apparently, passage back wasn't part of our deal. I'm sorry, Mustang." Edward hung his head.

"Why are you apologizing? It's that bastard's fault!" Mustang asked, gripping Ed carefully by his shoulders so as to not exacerbate the teen's injuries. Edward looked up at the touch.

"I didn't think about the return trip and now we have to pay Truth knows what to get home! You shouldn't have even been here. It was a deal between Truth and me; you had nothing to do with it and now you have to pay for it!" If asked, Edward would blame his exhaustion and the events of the past few days on the fact that his eyes were starting to fill with tears.

Mustang noticed and felt his heart ache at the sight. "Listen to me, Ed. _None_ of this is your fault." Ed opened his mouth to argue, but Mustang cut him off. "No, listen. Truth offered to send me back before we got sent here, remember?" A slow nod answered him. "I chose to come with you. While you're very talented and defying the odds, your chances of surviving this mission were apparently increased by me being here. So I decided that I would come with you and make sure you got back to your brother in one piece. I do not regret my decision and I will pay my toll to pass through the Gate if that's what I need to do to make sure you get back to Al. In no way is any of this your fault. If you want to blame something, blame me for agreeing to come or blame Truth for being an asshole, okay?"

A small, slightly watery chuckle escaped Ed as Mustang finished. "Okay," he said as he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Good. Now, more importantly, did you manage to transmute yourself a pair of gloves, or do you need to continue borrowing mine?" Mustang asked as he removed his hands from Ed's shoulders and noticed the lack of gloves on him.

Ed picked up the ignition gloves from the table the clothes had been on and handed them back to Mustang. "I'm good; I transmuted a pair for myself while you were talking to Agent Jaraeu," he said as he pulled the freshly transmuted pair of gloves on, with Mustang mimicking his actions.

"Excellent. Now, let's go get something to eat and then come back up here and get some more sleep before we figure out what we're going to do about Truth," Mustang declared as he ushered Edward out the door and down towards food.

Ed laughed as his antics, but went along willingly. Very little could upset the blond enough to put him off food, and Truth wasn't one of them. Ed led the way down, and subsequently was the first through the door into the meeting room. That also meant he was the first to be tackled by a perky blonde launching herself at him. He winced in pain as the bear hug put pressure on his cracked ribs, but the blonde was gone as quickly as she came.

She hadn't gone far, however, and soon Mustang was captured in her embrace. Garcia finally calmed down enough to notice that her new friends were injured and immediately started apologizing for causing them pain. Morgan soon intervened and led Garcia away from them so they could find a place to sit at the table, which contained a number of different kinds of food.

The variety of aromas was enough to make both alchemists salivate. They barely noticed that Hotch and Rossi were also present. However, they sat down politely at the table and waited patiently for everyone else to be seated. Edward was ready to just launch himself at the food and start shoveling it in his mouth at top speed, but he restrained himself. Of course, the fact that Mustang had one hand gripping his flesh arm to hold him back also helped.

Soon enough everyone was helping themselves to food. The two alchemists had next to no idea what they were eating, although they did recognize the pizza. Some of the food tasted like Cretan food and some tasted similar to Xingan food, but they were more focused on actually eating than worrying about what they were eating.

Twenty minutes and several empty food containers in front of them later, Edward and Mustang had finally eaten their fill, much to the amusement of the agents, all of whom had finished eating long before the alchemists were sated. There was some idle chatter among everyone, mostly in the form of the agents and alchemists answering questions about the battle for Garcia. Once the perky blonde analyst had run out of questions, Hotch spoke up.

"I understand that you joined forces with us solely because he was one of your people, but I wanted to thank both of you for your assistance in putting a stop to Harding's killing spree. After witnessing the fight between the three of you, I have to admit that we'd have been hard-pressed to go up against him without you. So thank you."

"It was our duty to stop him but we couldn't have done it without your help. Not only would we have been struggling to understand your country, but we more than likely wouldn't have caught up to him until he'd killed even more people. Without your assistance and acceptance of us, we wouldn't have stopped him so quickly. There's no need to thank us," Mustang replied while Ed just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes at how diplomatic they were being.

"Yeah, like Mustang said: we'd have been fucked finding our way round this place by ourselves, so no need to thank us. We also kind of killed your mics and the other techy things you gave us during the fight, so you definitely don't have to thank us. Also, I killed that tracking device you hid in my jacket pocket," Ed said as he raised his eyebrow at Hotch and handed over the destroyed device.

Hotch took it with a small chuckle. "So you found it, huh?"

Ed laughed at Mustang's surprised face. "Yeah, good try. But next time, slip it into my right hand pocket. Probably wouldn't have found it as quickly with the hand I can't feel," Ed told him helpfully.

"You were tracking us?" Mustang demanded, starting to rise from his chair, his gloved hands pressed against the surface of the table.

Ed put a hand on his arm. "Chill, Mustang. Like you wouldn't have done the same thing. They were just taking precautions," he pointed out logically, making Mustang deflate a little bit.

"Wait, how did you know that was a tracking device? From everything that you've told us, it doesn't sound like your technology is as advanced as ours," Morgan said.

Ed laughed. "The books that I read the other night at the hotel. Some of them were true crime stories, and I recognized it by the description in the books."

"Well, now that that's been dealt with, there is something else I'd like to discuss with you. I think you'll be very interested," Hotch said once Mustang had sat back down. Edward raised a curious eyebrow and Hotch took the hint. "Rossi and I were helping the local PD sweep the store where Harding was hiding for any more 'booby traps' when we found something that you might want to take back home with you."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief that had been folded in half. Unwrapping it, he held it out to reveal two small red stones.

"No fucking way," Ed could only say as he realized what he was looking at. Mustang's jaw was hanging open and he looked as shocked as Ed felt. "He had more Stones?!"

"It would appear so. We found them in his hideout, tucked away in a small hole in the wall. Honestly, if we hadn't heard you describe them, we wouldn't have paid much attention to them. Since they're of your world and pose a danger to ours, Rossi and I decided to give them back to you to deal with as you see fit," Hotch explained as he handed them to Edward, who took them cautiously, like he was being handed an unstable bomb.

"Ed, you realize what this means, right?" Mustang asked as soon as he got over his shock.

"Yeah. It means we got fucking lucky that Harding couldn't get back to his hideout and get these," Ed said as he felt the slight hum of power going through him, thanks to the Stone.

"No, well, yes…but not just that. We have our payment for Truth." Ed whipped his head around to look at Mustang with surprise, golden eyes wide. "We can use these to buy our way back."

Ed grinned as Mustang's words sunk in.

"What do you mean, 'buy our way back'?" Reid asked, snapping the alchemists' attention back to their forgotten audience. Both alchemists exchanged a look before apparently coming to a silent agreement.

"I had a visit from Truth," Ed said. "I'm pretty sure I explained about who it is when we first arrived, right? Alchemic god; massive dickwad." The agents all nodded. "Well, it came to let me know that while we have completed our mission, we are going to have to pay our way back, since a return trip was apparently not included in the deal we made. We were going to go back to the room and discuss what to do, but now that we have these, we can exchange them for our trip back."

"You have to pay? Like, money?" Garcia asked.

Ed chuckled darkly. "Not quite. You pay whatever Truth deems a fair price in exchange for what you want. The first time I ever went through the Gate, it cost me my leg. The second time, my arm."

The agents all stared at him in shock at that admission. Ed didn't fail to notice the way their eyes flickered over to his right arm, and he kept himself from gripping it through sheer force of will, uncomfortable with the amount of attention he was getting.

"You went through it a second time? Voluntarily? Even though you'd already lost your leg?" Morgan asked disbelievingly.

"The first time, I didn't understand what I'd done or the price I paid. The second time, I didn't know what price I was going to pay, but I had to go back through. It was the only way to save my brother," Ed said curtly. Feeling the tension in the air, JJ changed the topic.

"So when are you going to head back?" she asked, a little sad at the prospect of saying goodbye to the alchemists so soon. She was really enjoying having them around.

"Now that we've got the Stones, we can head back at anytime," Ed said. "The sooner, the better. I've got a little brother in the hospital to get back to, and Mustang's got some paperwork to start catching up on," he added with a smirk.

"Maybe we can stay here a few more days?" Mustang suggested half-heartedly.

Ed wasn't the only one to laugh. "That just means even _more_ paperwork and a _very_ pissed off Lieutenant Hawkeye when she finds out that you hid out here for a few more days to avoid your paperwork."

Mustang sighed, but accepted defeat.

Edward stood and stretched cautiously. "Do you know what the array looks like, or do you want me to draw it?"

"Draw it out. I only remember the one you drew and I'm not confident I remember it one hundred percent," Mustang said after much deliberation. Edward nodded and complied, digging out the piece of chalk from his jacket pocket and kneeling on the wooden floor. With careful, deliberate strokes, he drew the one transmutation circle that he knew he would never forget, no matter how old and mature he got.

Once he was finished and had scrutinized every line and symbol, he straightened and stood. He looked seriously at the agents. "As soon as we're gone, get a stick or a rag and break the outer circle to make sure that it's safe, and then destroy this whole array," Edward asked Hotch, who nodded solemnly. "Thanks again for everything, especially the food," Ed said, gaining a small chuckle from the agents. Garcia and JJ both gave him and Mustang hugs while everyone else settled for a slap on the back or handshakes as a goodbye.

"It was fantastic meeting you both and I almost hope we get to meet you again," Reid said, grinning at Ed."

"Ditto, Doc," Ed grinned back before he and Mustang waved one final time. Taking a deep breath, he and Mustang stepped into the center of the array. He knelt down again and pressed both hands to the array, activating it. A huge flash of blue light erupted from the chalked lines, and after a moment turned a deep, vibrant purple and then a large grey eye suddenly opened beneath their feet, followed by a ring of black, grasping hands rising from the ground, making the agents jump in surprise and step back several paces.

In the next moment, the two alchemists were gone, the eye closed and the hands vanished into the ground, leaving only a chalked circle on the wooden floor. There was nearly a full minute of silence before Hotch approached the array with the same level of caution he would have shown an armed bomb. He dropped his handkerchief on the ground and, in the same way he'd seen Ed destroy the array in the alley outside the hotel, he used the toe of his shoe to drag the handkerchief across the outer circle, breaking it and smudging several of the symbols inside the circle at the same time.

JJ sighed as she left to go and request some cleaning supplies from the front desk clerk so they could fulfill their final promise to the alchemists.

* * *

Mustang and Ed stood in a familiar void of pure white, facing Truth, with the Gate looming behind them.

"Welcome back, alchemists."

"We're here to go home," Edward didn't even bother with pretending to be polite.

"Oh? And what do you plan to pay with?" Truth grinned evilly.

"These," Edward said, extending his hand to reveal the two Stones. "One for each of us."

Truth's grin grew wider, if that was even possible. "Oooh, a very handsome payment indeed," it cooed as it reached out to take the Stones from Edward. It spent a moment inspecting them, before turning its attention back to Ed and Mustang. "Very well. I accept your payment. You're free to go home."

The Gate's doors opened wide and familiar black hands grabbed them to drag them back through. The last glimpse they had of Truth was of it grinning at them, waving goodbye at them before they blacked out.

* * *

When they came to, it was to find themselves lying on a pristine white tile floor to the sound of two panicked voices calling their names.

"Chief! Boss!"

"Colonel! Brother!"

Mustang and Ed both slowly sat up and took in their surroundings. They were back in Amestris, and more specifically in Al's room at Central Hospital. They met each other's eyes and grinned. It had worked, they were both home and in one piece. Ed felt a hand on his left shoulder and looked up to see Havoc standing over him. He accepted the older man's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, while Mustang helped himself up using the frame of Al's bed.

Almost as soon as he was on his feet, Ed was yanked out of Havoc's grip and down onto Al's bed, where he was subjected to a hug stronger than Garcia's.

"Where have you two been?!" Al half-shouted through desperate sobs. "You've been missing for five days! I've been worried sick!" Ed soothingly rubbed Al's back as the younger blond sobbed into his left shoulder.

It took a little while for him to calm down, time that Mustang used to claim Edward's usual chair by Al's bed while Havoc summoned Lieutenant Hawkeye and the rest of his relieved and terrified team. He swallowed a little nervously when he saw the combination of relief and rage on Hawkeye's face.

"So? Are you going to tell us what was so important that you disappeared without telling anyone, only to come back injured?" Hawkeye demanded.

Edward and Mustang exchanged a glance and matching grins before Edward looked at Hawkeye and the rest of the team. "It's a long story, so you'd better make yourselves comfortable."

 **A/N - And here is the final chapter for you guys! Now you can read the entire revised story! A massive thank you to the lovely PhoenixQueen for all of her hard work in revising this story for me. She's also going to work on AMA2 for me and she's helping me with my new story. There's also a chance that once the new story is written, she might help me with Spirit and I'll start writing new chapters sooner than I thought! Now that this story has been completely revised, I would love to hear what you guys think to it!**


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